A 


^H 


Vi  w 


► 


LI  B  RAR.Y 

OF   THE 

UNIVLRSITY 

Of    ILLINOIS 


\ 


\ 


"WOKKS  HSCENTIiY  PUBUSBED 


E.  L.  CAREY  &  A.  HART. 


MRS.  JA3IES0N'S  NEW  WORK. 


BEAUTIES  OF  THE  COURT  OF  CHARLES  H. 

With  Memoirs  and  Anecdotes  of  their  Lives  :  and  an  Ir.troductor>'  View  of 
the  state  of  Female  Society,  and  its  Influences,  Dress,  Manners,  <fcc.,  during 
that  remarkable  rejff"-  By  Mrs.  Jameson,  authoress  of  Memoirs  of  the  Loves 
of  the  Poets.     Containing  the  lives  of 

Catherine  of  Braganza,  the  unhappy  and  slighted  wife  of  Charles. 

Lady  Castlemaine,  afterwards  Duchess  of  Cleaveland,  the  haughty  enslaver 
of  the  monarch. 

La  Belle  Hamilton,  Countess  de  Grammont,  one  of  the  ancestors  of  the  Jer- 
ningham  family. 

The  gentle  and  blameless  Countess  of  Ossory,  interesting  from  her  extreme 
beauty,  her  tenderness,  and  her  feminine  virtues. 

Xeli  Gwynne,  merry  and  open  hearted,  who,  with  all  her  faults,  was  at  least 
exempt  from  the  courth'  vice  of  hypocrisy,  and  whose  redeeming  qualities  make 
even  the  justice  of  history  half  loth  to  condemn  her. 

The  beautiful  and  wealthy  Duchess  of  Somerset,  the  wife  of  tliree  successive 
husbands,  one  of  whom  encountered  a  tragical  fate. 

The  noted  Frances  Stewart,  Duchess  of  Richmond.  '-Fond  of  adoration,  yet 
armed  with  indifference,"  whose  marriage  was  the  immediate  cause  of  Lord 
Clarendon"s'disgrace. 

Miss  Lawson"^  mild  and  gentle,  yet  opposing  the  fortitude  of  virtue  to  tlie 
perils  of  a  licentious  Court. 

The  Countess  of  Chesterfield,  one  of  the  fair  principals  of  De  Grammonfa 
celebrated  story  of  the  Basverts. 

The  Countess  of  Southesk,  whose  faults,  follies,  and  miseries  constitute  a 
tale  well  fitted  to  point  a  moral. 

The  interesting  and  exemplary  Countess  of  Rochester. 

The  beautious  and  arrogant  LadyDedham,  claiming  interest  from  the  poeti- 
cal fame  of  her  husband,  and  her  own  tragical  and  mysterious  fate. 

The  magnificent  Lady  Ballasys,  renowned  for  her  beauty,  wit.  and  high 
?pirit,  and  recorded  as  the  mistress  of  James,  Duke  of  York,  only  through  her 
voluntary  resignation  of  the  marriage  contract  by  which  she  had  already  be- 
come united  wiih  him. 

Mrs.  \ott,  fair,  sentimental  and  Madonna  like. 

Anne  Digby.  Countess  of  Sutherland,  beautiful  and  blameless,  tbe  friend  of 
Ihe  anaelic  Ladv  Russell,  and  of  the  excellent  Evelyn. 

The  fair  coquette,  Mrs.  Middleton,  one  of  De  Granmionfs  special  heroines. 

Miss  Bagot,  who  became  in  succession  the  irreproachable  wife  of  two  liber- 
line  Lords. 

The  fair,  the  elegant,  and  fascinating  Miss  Jennings,  "Who  robbed  the  men 
of  their  hearts,  the'woraen  of  their  lovers,  and  never  lost  herself" 

The  Countess  of  Northumberland,  distinguished  for  her  uncommon  grace 
and  beautv.  and  tbe  blameless  tenor  of  her  life. 

The  Diichess  of  Portsmouth,  one  of  tbe  most  absolute  of  Royal  favourites, 
and  one  of  the  most  striking  examples  of  the  mischief  of  female  usurpation  in 
^ilitical  affairs. 

And  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire,  fair,  kind,  and  true,  and  wedded  to  a  Noble- 
uiaii.  who,  to  the  valor  and  bearing  of  a  Paladin  of  old  Romance,  added  tb« 
spirit  of  au  ancient  Roman. 


CELEBRATED    TRIALS 

AND 

CASES  OF  CRIMINAL  JURISPRUDENCE  >^N  ^LL  AGES 

AND  COUNTRIES.    \ 

Amon^  Tfiaiiy  ^imxjrtq^Ucials  \vi)i  be  found  tlios^of  Faunlleroy — 
Thurteir— The  Burkcrs— Mfho— Mrs.  Ch"?ipn*in— B«l%i^ifhi— Vice 
Admiral  Byiior — William  Cordcr-s-Savage  the  Poet — Tliistlc'vvood — 
Capt.  KidcJ — Duke  of  Cumberland— Admiral  Kcppel^— Sir  Hugh  Palli- 
ser— Hare— Home  Tooke— Charles  Macklin— William  Cobbctt— Ma- 
jor Campbell. 


THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  BLACK. 

"  It  is  very  clever  and  very  entertaining — replete  with  pleasantry 
and  humour :  quite  as  imaginative  as  any  German  diablerie,  and  far 
more  amusing  than  most  productions  of  its  class.  It  is  a  very  whimsi- 
cal and  well  devised  jeu  d'esprit." — Literary  Gazette. 

Tlie  Gentleman  in  Black,  is  the  gentleman  with  a  long  tail,  who 
assumes  a  tangible  shape,  and  tenders  assistance  to  a  gay  votary  of 
fashion,  wlio  has  lost  his  all  at  the  gaming  table.  A  contract  is  made 
between  the  parties — the  Gentleman  in  Black  agrees  to  provide  money, 
and  the  poor  Frenchman  promises  to  sin  a  second  the  first  year,  two 
seconds  the  second,  four  seconds  the  third,  eight  seconds  the  fourth, 
sixteen  seconds  the  fifth,  and  so  on  during  his  natural  life.  The  inci- 
dents of  the  work  hinge  upon  this  contract,  and  the  gradual  progress  of 
crime  is  most  admirably  depicted.  The  vein  of  humour,  and  the  laugh- 
able scenes  interspersed  in  the  work,  are  irresistible. 


CAVENDISH; 

OR,  THE  PATRICIAN  AT  SEA. 
By  the  Author  of  the  "Port  Admiral." 

"  '  Cavendish'  is  a  work  that  may  be  considered  sui  generis.  It  is 
not  a  novel — it  is  not  a  book  of  travels — it  is  not  an  autobiography — it 
is  not  a  political  treatise  ;  but  it  is  all  these  in  one.  TJie  author  has  all 
the  characteristics  of  a  sailor  in  full  perfection,  and  he  displays  them 
all  in  this  singular  work,  the  merits  and  defects  of  v.hich  we  shall  leave 
to  be  discovered  and  appreciated  by  that  best  metliod  of  all  in  the  case 
of  a  work  that  will  be  generally  read." — Court  Journal. 

"  '  Cavendish'  is  a  novel  of  very  considerable  talent.  There  are  many 
scenes  in  it  deserving  of  high  commendation.  The  author  is  a  man  of 
observation  and  talent." — Westminster  Quarterly  RerAew. 

"  We  regard  '  Cavendisli'  as  a  very  clever  work.     He  is  a  staunch 
■Reformer,  whether  of  naval  or  general  abuses.    The  account  of  the  bat- 
tle of  Navarino  is  an  admirable  picture." — The  Courier. 


ADVENTURES   OF  SIR  FRIZZLE  PUMPKIN 

AND  OTHER  TALES. 

"  If  there  is  any  body  who  is  suspicious  of  an  idle  hour  being  about  to 
annoy  them  in  this  cold  weatlier,  let  them  send  to  Messrs.  Carey  & 
Hart,  and  get  a  volume  just  published,  with  the  title  of  "  Adventures  of 
Sir  Frizzle  Pumpkin,"  a  most  humorous  and  pleasant  collection  of  well 
told  stories.  But  how  tlie  author  can  answer  his  conscience  for  such  & 
title  vre  know  not — that  is  his  look  out." — U.  S.  Gazette. 


THE     COQUETTE. 

By  the  Author  of"  Miserrimus." 
"  Under  this  title,  the  author  of  '  Miserrimus'  has  produced  a  new 
novel,  in  three  volumes.  The  Coquette  is  entirely  different  from  the 
first  work  of  its  author — being  rather  amusing  and  cheerful  than  other- 
wise, with  the  exception  of  the  third  volume,  where  the  language  and 
events  deepen  into  great  interest  and  vigour.  We  were  confident  that 
a  mind  of  such  powers  could  not  be  constitutionally  morbid — and  our 
belief  has  been  verified.  Should  he  continue  to  write,  as  we  doubt  not 
he  will,  he  can  scarcely  fail  of  adding  to  the  lustre  of  a  name  already 
well  exalted.  The  Coquette  has  established  his  versatility ;  and  his 
next  effort  should  be  to  produce  a  fiction  that  shall  combine  his  various 
gifts,  and  secure  him  that  reputation  which  no  extremes  of  composition, 
grave  or  gay,  can  give  him." — Inquirer. 

TRAVELS  INTO  BOKHARA. 

Being  the  account  of  a  Journey  from  India  to  Cabool,  Tartary  and 
Persia.  Also,  Narrative  of  a  Voyage  on  the  Indus,  from  the  Sea  to 
Lahore ;  performed  under  the  orders  of  the  Government  of  India,  in 
183],  183-2  and  1633.     By  Lieut.  Alex.  Burnes. 

"  Mr.  Burncs  is  the  first  European  of  modern  times,  who  has  navi- 
gated the  Indus.  Many  years  have  passed  since  the  English  library 
has  been  enriched  with  a  book  of  travels  in  value  at  all  comparable 
with  this.  Mr.  Burnes  is  evidently  a  man  of  strong  and  masculine 
talents,  high  spirit  and  elegant  taste,  weU  qualified  to  tread  in  the  steps 
of  oar  Malcolms  and  Elphinstones." — London  Quarterly  Review. 

"  Though  comparisons  may  be,  and  often  are,  odious,  we  do  not  think 
we  shall  excite  one  resentful  feeling  even  among  the  travellers  whose 
productions  we  have  reviewed  during  a  course  approaching  twenty 
years,  when  we  say  that  so  interesting  a  publication  of  that  class  as  the 
present,  has  not  come  under  our  notice.  If  to  exhibit  the  manners  of 
the  novel,  the  incidents  of  the  romance,  the  events  of  history,  the  scene- 
ry of  descriptive  literature,  and  the  novelties  of  scientific  information, 
can  make  a  book  delightful,  all  these  are  to  be  found  in  Lieut.  Burnes' 
unassuming  narrative." — London  Literary  Gazette, 


THE   PORT   ADMIRAL; 

•  A  TALE  OF  THE  WAR.    , 

By  the  Author  'of  ^"  Cavt-ndish." — Nearly  ready. 

"  A  work  full  of  interest  and  variety.  The  scenes  are  traced  with  a 
powerful  hand." — Sunday  Times. 

" These  volumes  v.ill  make  a  stir  in  what  an  old  writer  calls  the 
'  Wooden  World.'  They  touch  too  severely  upon  blemishes  in  the  dis- 
cipline, manners,  opinions  and  principles  of  our  maritime  government 
not  to  be  eagerly  examined,  and  perhaps  sharply  discussed  by  naval 
men." — Athenccum. 

"  Margarita  is  a  character  we  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  surpass- 
ed by  modern  novelists." — Court  Journal. 


ALLEN   BRECK. 

By  the  Author  of  the  "Subaltern,"  &.c.  «Scc. 
•*  The  most  striking  production  of  Mr.  Gleig." — U.  S.  Journal. 
"  One  of  the  most  powerful  and  highly  wrought  tales  we  ever  read.' 
Edinburgh  Review. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

By  the  Author  of  "The  Kazzilbash." 

LIVES  AND  EXPLOITS  OF  ENGLISH  HIGH- 
WAYMEN, PIRATES  AND  ROBBERS, 

Drawn  from  the  earUest  and  most  authentic  sources,  and  brought 
down  to  the  present  time.  By  C.  Whitehead,  Esq.,  in  2  vols.  12mo. 
Among  others,  will  be  found  the  lives  of  Duvall,  Dick  Turpm,  Eugene 
Aram,  George  Barrington,  Jonathan  Wild,  &c. 

"  These  are  truly  entertaining  volumes,  fraught  with  anecdote,  and 
abounding  in  extraordinary  adventures." — Naval  andMilitary  Gazette, 


LEGENDS  AND  STORIES  OF  IRELAND. 

By  Samuel  Lover. 

"  He  has  worked  a  rich  mine  of  national  humour,  and  has  drawn 
tlience  stories  illustrative  of  Irish  character  so  irresistibly  droll,  that 
could  the  delicate  and  nervous  be  induced  to  the  reading  of  them,  it 
would  tend  more  towards  casing  the  '  foul  bosom  of  its  perilous  stuff,' 
than  all  the  prescriptions  of  faculty." — Dublin  Warder. 

"This  is  a  capital  book,  full  of  fun  and  humour,  and  most  charac- 
teristically Irish.  The  stories  are  so  drolly  told,  the  manner  and  the 
idiom  arc  so  thoroughly  national,  and  the  conceits  so  rich  and  ludicrous, 
that  the  effect  of  the  whole  is  quite  admirable.  We  would  have  all  per- 
sons who  wish  for  a  hearty  laugh  in  this  leaden  age  of  the  world,  to  get 
these  mirth-moving  tomes  into  their  possession." — New  Monthly  Maga- 
zine, April. 


THE   BLACK  WATCH. 

By  T.  Picken,  Author  of  the  "  Domixe's  Legacy." — Nearly  ready. 
"  One  of  the-most  powerful  and  pathetic  fictions  which  have  recently 
appeared." — Times. 


TOUGH  YARNS. 

A  series  of  Naval  Tales  and  Sketches  to  please  all  hands,  from  the 
swabs  on  the  shoulders  down  to  the  swabs  in  the  head. 

By  the  OLD  SAILOR ; 

Author  of  "Gkeenwich  Hospital." — Nearly  ready. 

"  The  '  Old  Sailor'  paints  sea  scenes  and  adventures  with  vigour  and 
gusto;  now  and  then  reminding  us  of  Tom  Cringle,  and  with  a  strong 
sense  of  the  comical  that  approaches  Smollett." — Spectator. 

"Here,  most  placable  reader,  is  a  title  for  thee,  pregnant  with  fan, 
and  deeply  prophetic  of  humour,  drollery,  and  all  those  joyous  emotions 
that  so  opportunely  come  to  oil  the  springs  of  the  heart.  The  title  is 
no  vain-glorious  boast;  it  is  even  mcdcst  as  regards  the  merit  o^  the 
work." — Metropolitan  Mc^. 

"  Here  we  have  the  '  Old  Sailor'  once  more,  and  in  all  his  glory  tool 
The  public  will  join  with  us  in  hailing  the  re-appearance  of  the  'old' 
boy.  He  stands  at  the  head  of  the  naval  humourists  of  the  nineteenth 
•entury.  We  have  rarely  seen  an  affair  so  richly  humorous — it  is  on« 
of  the  most  amusing  and  best  written  volumes  of  naval  fiction  we  hare 
ever  met  with." — Observer. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2010  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign 


http://www.archive.org/details/highlandsmuggler01fra 


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THE 


HIGHLA/ND  SMUGGLERS. 


BY  TEE 


AUTHOR  OF   "adventures  OF  A  KUZZILBASH/'   "PERSIAN 


ADVENTURER,"   &C. 


I?^    THREE   VOLUMES. 
Vow   I. 


PHILADELPHIA : 
E.  L.  CAREY  &  A.  HART. 

BALTIMORE : 
CAREY,  HART  &  Co. 

1835. 


E.  G.  DoRSEY,  Printer, 
12  Library  Street. 


TJ/ 


INTRODUCTION. 


3        EvEK  such  readers  as  "hate  prefaces,"  need  not  be  startled 

5    by  the  appearance  of  these  few  preliminary  observations: 

^   they  have  no  pretension  to  so  alarming  an  appellation.    The 

:-;:^  work  before  them  is  strictly  a  Highland  tale;  descriptive 

^  partly,  as  its  title  imports,  of  the  habits  and  manners  of  a 

class  of  people,  who  not  very  long  ago  aboimded  throughout 

^'^   the  Highlands,  and  who,  in  spite  of  every  attempt  at  control, 

Hki   or  legislative  enactment  on  the  part  of  government,  are  still 

V-  to  be  found  there.     That  it  was  the  author's  original  inten- 

^,  lion  to  turn  the  interest  of  the  story  more  exclusively  upon 

^  smuggling  adventures,  will  account  for  the  introduction  of 

y^  certain  di5uu>5iuas  on  the  Subject  of  illicit  distillation  at 

greater  length  than  may,  by  some  rcadcra,  be  deemed  ^uit- 

^  ible  to  a  work  of  this  nature. 

^      Another  principal  object  of  the  author  being  to  depict 
Highland  scenery  and  manners  in  general,  he  trusts  to  be 
held  excused,  even  by  those  who  delight  in  "stirring  adven- 
ture" alone,  should  local  descriptions  appear  at  first  to  pre- 
dominate more  than  may  be  to  their  taste:  they  will  find,  as 
the  narrative  proceeds,  that  these  give  place  to  an  increased 
^.  variety  of  incident  and  action,  which  he  flatters  himself  will 
V>  not  be  thought  deficient  in  interest  or  excitement. 
5      A  few  words  regarding  the  language,  or  rather  the  dialed, 
iii^'^ut  into  the  mouths  of  the  lower  characters.     There  is  no 
I  point,  perhaps,  in  which  the  ablest  and  most  admired  Authors 
l^have  been  so  little  successful,  as  in  conveying  to  their  read- 
-  ers  a  correct  idea  of  Highland  dialect  and  accent.     It  differs 
essentially  both  in  pronunciation  and  idiom  from  the  Low- 
>  land  Scotch,  which  has  been  usually  but  erroneously  attri- 
"  buted  to  Highlander:^.     Its  chief  points  of  dissimilarity  from 
English  are  to  be  founu  In  its  periphrastic  phraseology  and 
strong  guttural,  aspirated  accent.  A  Highlander,  even  when 
he  speaks  English,  seems  to  think  in  his  own  language:  hence, 
his  conversation  in  that  tongue  is,  in  fact,  a  translation  from 
Gaelic,  while  the  long  drawn  aspirates  of  the  Celtic  enuncia- 
tion infect  and  disguise  his  words  to  a  degree  extremely  of- 


IV  INTRODUCTION. 

fensive  to  an  English  ear.  To  describe  in  writing  a  pecu- 
liarity, which  chiefly  consists  in  the  inflections  of  that  inex- 
pressible thing  accent,  is  very  difficult.  Should  we  wish,  for 
instance,  to  convey  to  an  English  reader,  the  true  sound  of 
such  common  expressions  a.s,  "It's  a  fine  day!" — or  "trouth," 
(in  truth) — "I'm  no  weel  at  all  the  day,"  as  uttered  by  a  High- 
lander— the  English  alphabet  affords  no  combination  of  let- 
ters that  will  approach  nearer  the  truth  than  those  we  have 
made  use  of.  How  is  that  long  nasal  drawl,  with  which  the 
Highlander  would  enunciate  the  words,  to  be  expressed^ 

Again,  the  letter  a  is  generally  sounded  broad  by  the  Low- 
lander,  who  frequently  substitutes  its  sound  for  that  of  the 
vowel  0,  as  in  auld,  caidd,  for  old  and  cold.  The  Highland- 
er preserves  the  vowel,  but  adds  to  it  a  long  drawling  u, 
making  the  words  ou\d  and  could.  The  Lowland er  pro- 
nounces the  word  good  as  gude,  or  guid;  in  the  mouth  of  a 
Highlander  it  scarcely  differs  from  the  same  word  in  Eng- 
lish, The  lad,  or  rather  laud,  of  the  former,  bears  but  little 
resemblance  to  the  interminable  loMad  of  the  Celt. 

We  do  not,  however,  mean  to  write  a  treatise  on  Highland 
orthoepy;  enough  has  been  said  to  explain  the  reason  of  any 
variation  that  may  be  observed  between  the  language  used 
in  this  work,  and  the  dialect  commonly  put  in  the  mouths  oi 
Highlanders.  Bur,  as  in  portrait  painting,  it  has  been  found 
that  slight  deviations  from  truth  will  rather  add  to  than  de- 
tract from  a  likeness;  and  as  the  judicious  artist  Avill  rathe: 
reject  such  particulars  as  tend  to  diminish  the  general  good 
effect  of  his  work,  than  embarrass  himself  with  unprofitable 
details;  so  has  the  Author  in  this  case  deemed  it  expedient 
to  deviate  occasionally  from  the  rules  he  has  laid  down;  and 
in  order  to  maintain  a  suitable  verisimilitude,  when  an  ex- 
pression or  sentence  might  otherwise  have  appeared  unnatu- 
rally English  in  the  mouth  of  a  Highlander  of  the  lower 
classes,  he  has  ventured  to  throw  in  a  sprinkling  of  words, 
which  in  strictness  belong  to  Lowland  Scotch. 

With  regard  to  the  localities  and  incidents  of  his  story,  the 
Author  has  little  to  remark.  He  has  described  but  what  he 
saw,  and  what  he  knows;  and  although  there  may  be  certain 
peculiarities  of  scene  and  of  fact  that  will  appear  strange  to 
some  of  his  southern  readers,  he  feels  assured  that  the  gene- 
ral truth  of  his  delineations  can  be  attested  by  many  of  the 
sons  and  daughters  of  "Merry  England,"  as  well  as  by  those 
of  the  "Land  of  the  Mountain  and  the  Flood."  To  them  he 
appeals  with  confidence  for  their  favourable  testimony,  and 
to  the  public  at  large  for  that  liberal  encouragement  which  is 
seldom  withheld  from  those  who  have  at  least  the  merit  of 
good  intentions  to  plead  in  behalf  of  iheir  efforts. 


THE 

HIGHLAND    SMUGGLERS 


CHAPTER  I. 


A  HIGHLAND  GLEN. 


From  distant  isles  a  chiefiam  came, 

The  joys  of  Ronald's  halls  to  find: 
To  chase  with  him  the  dark  brown  game, 

That  bound  o'er  Albion's  hills  of  wind, 

''Well,  Tresham,  what  say  you?  Hold  your  reso- 
lution firm,  to  stake  wind  and  manhood  on  a  day's  deer- 
stalking, after  our  Highland  fashion?  I  promise  you  it  will 
try  your  mettle,  however  well  you  may  have  proved  it  at 
Eton  or  Oxford;  aye,  or  in  the  Peninsula,  where  your 
prudent  father  sent  you  to  sow  your  wild  oats:  a  plenti- 
ml  crop  they  were  too,  or  you  are  sorely  belied." 

Such  was  the  address  of  the  young  laird  of  Glenval- 
lich  to  his  friend  and  college  chum,  Henry  Tresham,  a 
young  officer  of  good  fami^'  and  fortune,  as  they  sipped 
their  wine  after  dinner  on  a  lovely  evening  of  July. 
Tresham,  after  several  years  of  hard  service,  and  some 
ill  health,  had  obtained  leave  of  absence  from  his  regi- 
ment, and  quitting  his  paternal  mansion  in  merry  Eng- 
land, proceeded  to  beat  up  the  quarters  of  his  ancient 
ally  at  the  family  seat  of  Inveralhch,  in  the  hopes  of  en- 
a2 


6  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

joyinof  a  few  weeks  grouse-shooting,  on  his  extensive 
moors  in  the  vicinity  of  that  place.  Once  before  only, 
and  but  for  a  very  short  period,  had  Tresham  visited  his 
friend,  and  experienced  the  delight  of  putting  sundry 
brace  of  muir-iowl  to  death  on  their  own  wild  hills;  but 
it  was  a  r>hort  and  imperfect  enjoyment,  and  he  looked 
forward  with  anxiety  to  a  more  complete  and  prolonged 
fruition,  when  time  and  opportunity  should  serve.  The 
more  serious  pursuits  of  manhood,  and  the  duties  of  a 
profession  which  he  loved,  for  some  years  superseded  all 
lighter  occupations;  but  he  failed  not  to  seize  the  first 
occasion  which  presented  itself,  of  gratifying  a  taste 
w^hich  had  increased  rather  than  diminished  by  long 
privation. 

A  tedious  while  had  still  to  elapse  beibre  the  com- 
mencement of  the  grouse  season;  and  Tresham  having 
heard  the  laird  expatiate  with  enthusiasm  on  the  de- 
lights of  the  noble  sport  of  deer-stalking,  had  conceived 
a  wish  to  participate  in  them.  He  supposed  it  to  be  of  a 
nature  quite  similar  to  the  pursuit  he  was  already  ac- 
quainted with,  and  anticipating  neither  more  fatigue  nor 
inconvenience  in  the  one  than  in  the  other,  he  proposed 
accompanying  his  friend  in  his  next  expedition  to  the 
wild  glen,  which  the  large  property  of  Glenvallich  en- 
abled him  to  maintain  as  a  deer  forest,  where  he  could 
enjoy,  without  disturbance  or  control,  his  favourite  sport. 

''Infinitely  indebted  to  your  good  opinion,  Charles," 
was  the  reply  of  Tresham  to  the  address  which  com- 
mences our  chapter;  "but  the  charge  of  wildness  I  utterly 
repudiate,  as  foreign  to  my  nature;  witness  my  sober 
visit  to  your  sober  and  moral  country,  at  a  time  v/hen 
Bond  Street  and  St.  James's  still  swarm  with  gentlemen 
of  my  cloth-j-the  gay  and  the  dissipated  of  the  land; — but 
touching  this  challenge  of  yours,  I  say  yes,  certainly;  I 
do  wish  to  witness  this  fascinating  sport,  which  disturbs 
gravity  like  yours,  and  unhinges  your  prudence  so  com- 
pletely, as  to  reconcile  it  to  the  loss  of  fair  three  hundred 
pounds  a  year,  besides  heaven  knows  how  much  extra 
expense,  in  foresters,  game-keepers,  dogs,  bothys,  and 
the  like,  that  your  worship  may  kill  deer,  as  others  shoot 
pheasants,  or  rabbits,  by  the  hundred  head.  And  don't 
suppose  you'll  find  me  such  a  chicken  at  a  walk,  as  t»  be 
blown  or  fagged  by  what  you  and  your  ragged  gillies  can 
do  with  ease.  It's  a  long  time  since  to  be  sure;  but  do 
you  remember  a  certain  twelfth  of  August,  when  I  fired 
my  first  shot  at  grouse,  and  killed  my  fifteen  brace,  and 
was  on  my  feet  from  four  in  the  morning  till  near  seven 
at  niffht?'' 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  7 

"Yes,  Hal,  I  remember  it  well,  and  I  think  you  had 
enough  of  it  that  day." 

"Well,  perhaps  I  had;  and  I  slept  pretty  sound  that 
night  in  consequence." 

Yes,  and  next  morning  too.  Harry." 

"Well,  and  you  were  oti'to  the  muir  again  by  six,  you 
would  say;  why,  it  was  but  a  brag  ofyours — I  could  have 
done  it  myself,  and  easily  too,  had  you  thought  fit  to 
summon  me  in  time,  when  you  chose  to  start  alone." 

"I  had  more  compassion,  Harry,  than  to  commit  such 
a  piece  of  cruelty;  why  man,  )^ou  looked  as  lean  and  hag- 
gard as  a  drawn  weasel  when  we  came  home;  you  did 
not  feed  like  a  man  fit  for  work." 

"Ah!  so  you  are  pleased  to  say;  but,  besides,  I  was 
scarcely  more  than  a  boy  in  those  days;  Pm  tougher  and 
stronger  now,  and  that  you'll  find." 

"V\  ell,  as  you  are  resolved  to  try  your  powers  of  en- 
durance, have  at  you.  To-morrow  I'm  oti  to  Glenochree, 
where  I  have  some  business  to  settle,  and  I  mean  to  kill 
a  fat  stag  if  possible,  before  I  return.  I  want  to  send  a 
haunch  to  Lady  Pemberton,  to  let  her  see  what  good 
red  deer  venison  is.  She  scorned  it  the  other  day — 
called  it  meat  scarce  fit  for  a  gentleman's  table — only 
good  for  soups  and  stocks,  and  such  like  stufls.  She 
shall  recant;  so  make  ready  your  traps,  you  won't  want 
much.  I  will  arm  vou:  you  shall  have  my  Manton  rifle, 
and  a  pony  that  will  carry  you  where  any  four  uncloven 
hoofs  can  go,  and  never  miss  a  step." 

"What!  you  ride  on  this  deer-stalking  business,  then, 
do  you?    Pm  not  sorry  for  that." 

"Ride  a  deer-stalking!  O  Fingal!  O  Ossian!  Oscar,  and 
Toscar!  and  all  ye  spirits  of  the  mighty  hunters  of  old. 
hear  him,  and  veil  your  faces  in  wrath!  Ride  in  the 
forest  of  Glenochree! — ride  along  the  side  of  Scoore- 
vialach! — ride  up  the  Corry  Dhu! — faith,  you  would  need 
a  better  steed  than  I  can  give  you:  that  of  the  wild  hunts- 
man of  the  Black  Forest  at  least,  for  no  horse  of  mortal 
mould  could  carry  you  ten  yards  distance.  We  shall 
have  you  next  looking  for  a  painted  and  papered  draw- 
ing-room, with  damask  couches  and  window-curtains,  in 
my  hunting  bothy." 

"Scarcely  that,  friend  Charles;  for  I  have  not  quite 
lost  remembrance  of  a  certain  shooting  bothy,  which 
must  be  own  brother,  one  might  presume,  to  that  dedi- 
cated to  so  similar  a  sport." 

"Hum!— must  it,  indeed?— 6-m77ar  sport!— well,  you  ' 
shall  see." 


8  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

"Well,  SO  I  shall,  please  the  fates!  and  as  for  my  mis- 
take about  riding,  why  spoke  you  of  ponies,  if  we  are  not 
to  ride?" 

"Hah!  my  dear  Hal,  I  doubt  not  that  you  are  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  nature  of  a  Spanish  sierra,  or  a  posada; 
you  may  have  climbed  the  one  on  the  back  of  a  mule, 
and  have  been  bitten  half  to  death  the  live  long  night  in 
the  other;  but  take  my  word  for  it,  you  know  little  indeed 
of  a  Highland  deer-forest,  or  a  black  Highland  bothy, — 
how  indeed  should  you?  Why,  we  require  these  admir- 
able sure-footed  little  steeds  to  carry  us  fresh  to  this 
same  bothy,  of  which  you  shall  judge  when  you  see  it. 
You  would  not  choose  to  walk  eight-and-twenty  long 
miles,  I  presume?  and  so  far,  at  the  least,  is  the  bothy 
distant  from  this  place." 

"Eight-and-twenty  miles! — you  take  away  my  breath! 
What!  ride  eight-and-twenty  miles  on  your  own  pro- 
perty? Why  man,  it's  a  dukedom —a  principality— you're 
not  a  laird,  "but  a  king!" 

"Such,  however,  is  the  fact;  but  when  you  shall  have 
seen  the  nature  of  a  great  part  of  this  same  principality, 
your  conceptions  of  its  importance  may  come  to  be  low- 
ered: you  may  possibly  form  a  fairer  estimate  of  its  value. 
Extent,  certainly  it  has,  and  that,"  added  he,  while  a 
pardonable  emotion  of  pride  slightly  swelled  his  chest, 
and  heightened  the  colour  of  his  cheek,  "that  25  some- 
thing, doubtless!" 

"Something!  aye,  and  quite  enough  to  excuse  a  pretty 
strong  dose  of  Highland  pride,  although  you  would  fain 
amuse  us  with  a  specimen  of  Highland  humility.  Well, 
after  all,  a  few  hundreds  of  fat  English  acres  are  no  bad 
thing:  they  don't  tell  so  well  in  numbers  as  your  hun- 
dreds of  thousands,  but  count  by  rent  well  paid,  and  they 
make  no  bad  figure." 

"No,  Hal;  but  there  is  no  deer-stalking  there:  and,  as 
we  should  be  early  on  foot  to-morrow,  what  say  you  to 
making  our  arrangements  tq-nio-ht?  I  see  you  take  no 
wine;  suppose  we  have  coffee  in  the  other  room,  and 
then  set  to  Avork?" 

"By  all  means:  allonsP^ 

The  morning  was  as  lovely  as  could  be  desired;  not 
one  of  those  bright  cloudless  effects,  the  brilliant  sun- 
shine and  dark  shadow  of  which  foretells  a  speedy  over- 
cast; but  having  its  radiance  mellowed  by  a  soft  haze, 
which  betokened  a  continuance  of  the  delicious  weather 
they  had  for  some  time  enjoyed,  and  which  threw  a  tone 
of  almost  magical  beauty  over  hill  and  wood  and  dale. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  9 

After  an  early  and  substantial  breakfast,  the  two  friends 
set  off,  not  on  their  Highland  garrons,  but  in  a  very 
stylish  phaeton  and  pair,  in  which  they  drove  for  several 
miles. 

"A  pretty  fellow  you  are,  Mr.  Glenvallich,  humbug- 
ging your  raw  southern  friends  with  such  dire  accounts 
of  savag-e  glens,  roaring  torrents,  and  diabolical  roads. 
I  am  by  no  means  nice  I  find;  this  road  will  do  well  enough 
for  me;  nor  am  I  at  all  disposed  to  quarrel  with  this  well- 
hung  phaeton,  and  these  ponies,  if  such  your  modesty 
chooses  to  style  them — sixteen  hands  high  if  they're  an 
inch;  and,  upon  my  word,  this  is  a  very  beautiful  valley 
—or  glen,  if  you  prefer  that  appellation — with  its  sloping 
sides  and  rounded  knolls,  covered  with  oak  and  birch — 
not  very  majestic  indeed,  but  yet  a  very  pretty  fringe  of 
wood  they  make — and  these  rocks  that  rise  above,  too, 
with  the  green  patches  among  them — very  pastoral  and 
sweet; — what  a  fine  stream  too,  brawhng  and  twisting 
among  its  stones,  and  these  ledges  of  black  and  white 
stained  rock.  Good  trout  in  these  pools  too,  I  dare  fay 
— I  must  throw  a  fly  there  when  I  return." 

"Aye,  you  may  find  sport  there,  but  you  must  learn  to 
fish  for  salmon;  the  trouts  of  the  lochs  are  better  than 
those  of  our  rivers." 

"Well,  we  shall  look  at  them  in  due  season.  By  Jove! 
what  crops  on  these  small  fields — would  not  disgrace 
Norfolk — ^hedges,  to  be  sure,  would  make  handsomer 
divisions  than  vile  walls,  or  rather  long  heaps  of  stones, 
all  toppling  down  among  the  fox-glove  and  fern;  but  the 
little  coppice  scattered  here  and  there,  has  a  good  effect. 
Well,  hang  me,  but  you're  a  pretty  fellow  to  keep  all 
those  sweet  valleys  snugly  to  yourself,  and  call  them 
wild  and  savage  glens,  forsooth,  to  keep  timid  southerons 
out  of  them." 

"I  am  glad  they  please  you,  my  friend,  but  I  assure 
you  it  forms  no  part  of  my  policy  to  keep  this  glen,  which 
is  one  of  the  prettiest  in  this  part  of  the  country,  to  my- 
self, as  you  suppose:  but  have  patience  awhile,  you  will 
see  before  we  are  done,  whether  or  no  I  have  been  Jnnn- 
bugging  you:  in  the  meantime  we  are  just  approaching 
a  scene  which  I  would  recommend  to  your  attention  as 
a  lover  of  the  picturesque." 

The  hills,  at  the  point  they  were  now  approaching, 
rose  somewhat  suddenly  to  great  elevation,  and  over- 
hung the  glen  so  closely,  that  it  scarcely  afforded  room 
at  bottom  for  the  river,  or  water  as  it  was  called,  to  twist 
through  the  profound  chasm  which  it  had  hollowed  out 


10  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

for  itself  in  the  living  rock.  A  noise  arose  from  below,, 
like  the  rush  of  many  streams,  and  the  crag-g-y  banks  as- 
cended, most  exquisitely  clothed  with  birch  and  oak, 
mountain-ash,  hazel,  and  other  native  trees,  under  which 
spread  a  plentiful  carpet  of  fern  and  wild  flowers,  leav- 
ing the  black  rock  bare  and  stained  with  a  coat  of  lichens 
where  it  was  too  precipitous  to  receive  a  richer  covering. 

The  road  cut  out  of  one  of  these  precipitous  banks, 
overhung  the  stream  which  roared  near  two  hundred 
feet  below;  and  although  its  breadth,  parapet  walls,  and 
excellent  condition,  precluded  all  reasonable  idea  of  ha- 
zard, a  stranger  could  scarcely  repress  a  shudder  oChor- 
ror  as  he  whirled  past  the  black  abyss. 

■'You  did  well  to  prepare  me,  Charles,"  said  his  com- 
panion, "although  to  point  out  the  beauties  of  this  place 
is  unnecessary;  they  are  most  striking  and  palpable,  cer- 
tainly— what  noble  rocks  and  hills — and  what  wood,  too! 
— look  at  these  magnificent  birches,  and  that  rich  deli- 
cious honeysuckle!— What  the  devil  did  that  surly  pe- 
dant Johnson  mean  by  saying  there  were  no  trees  in 
Scotland?    I  owe  him  a  grudge  for  his  narrow-minded 

grejudice;  it  seems  to  impugn  the  liberality  of  the  nation 
e  belonged  to." 

"Why,  certain]);',  Johnson  was  prejudiced,  but  he  was 
not  always  happy  in  the  routes  he  took;  and  being  accus- 
tomed to  CO  very  rich  and  well-wooded  a  country,  he 
might  well  be  disappointed  at  the  barrenncgs  he  did  wit- 
ness." 

"Ah,  don't  defend  him;  he  deserves but  what  mist 

is  that,  rising  there— God  bless  me!  it's  a  cascade,  I  de- 
clare!— Grantl!  grand  and  beautiful,  by  Jove!"  And  his 
companion  drew  up  at  a  particular  point,  where  a  full 
view  was  obtained  of  the  rushing  cataract,  swelled  by  a 
heavy  fall  of  rain  on  the  hill,  as  if  to  show  oft'  the  gran- 
deur of  the  scene,  and  to  gratify  both  host  and  guest. 

The  enraptured  silence  of  that  guest  as  he  gazed  upon 
the  sublime  scenery  before  him,  was  more  expressive  of 
his  feelings  than  the  most  laboured  encomiums  in  words, 
and  certainly  more  gratifying  to  his  friend.  But  Tre- 
sham's  surprise  and  delight  were  not  yet  complete.  A 
succession  of  pools  and  rapids  above  the  lall,  soon  raised 
the  upward  course  of  the  river  to  a  height  little  lower  than 
the  level  ol"  the  road  on  which  they  were  driving;  and 
stream  and  road  winding  their  way  between  two  craggy 
and  wooded  knolls  which  rose  in'  front,  introduced  the 
travellers  to  a  change  of  scene  not  less  unexpected  than 
pleasing.    The  abrupt  and  contracted  mountains  which 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  11 

formed  the  pass,  opened  suddenly  to  the  right  and  left, 
yet  still  preservino^  an  imposing  altitude,  and  formed  a 
basin  of  considerable  size.  The  bottom  of  this  was  oc- 
cupied by  a  silver  lake  of  nearly  two  miles  in  length, 
leaving  an  irregular  but  not  inconsiderable  space  be- 
tween the  margm  of  the  water  and  the  slope  of  the  hills, 
well  cultivated,  and  dotted  with  cottages.  Among  these 
mi^-ht  be  detected  several  white-walled  houses  of  a  de- 
scription superior  to  the  rest,  which  communicated  to 
the  scene  an  air  of  comfort  and  civilization  which  could 
not  fail  to  please  the  eye  of  a  stranger.  The  hills  were 
partially  covered  with  wood,  chiefly  birch,  Avhich  crept 
up  and  dotted  their  sides  in  a  manner  more  graceful  by 
far,  than  could  have  been  etfected  by  the  most  tasteful 
hand;  and  the  fields  in  all  their  luxuriance  of  crop,  were 
naturally  divided  by  copse-wood  and  scattered  trees, 
which  produced  all  the  rich  etfect  of  hedgerow  foliage, 
without  its  formality.  The  summits  of  the  hills  were 
varied  with  gray  rock  and  purple  heather,  and  farther 
on,  towards  the  head  of  the  valley,  the  eye  caught  the 
blue  picturesque  forms  of  yet  more  distant  and  more 
important  mountains. 

"Upon  my  soul,  Charles,"  exclaimed  Tresham.  "thi.« 
is  fairy  land;  I  positively  don't  recollect  anything  more 
lovely  1" 

"What!  not  even  in  your  favourite  Spain?"' 

"Spain!  pshah!  a  waste  of  black  rocks  and  brown 
plains.   Italy,  Switzerland  has  nothing  more  delicious." 

"Well,  Harry,  I  am  glad  you  like  it — enjoy  it  while 
you  may,  for  your  fairy  land,  like  fairy  gifts,  is  fast  fad- 
ing away.     See  you  yon  blue  peak?" 

"Which? — that  with  the  grayish  lump  on  the  north 
end?" 

"Poh,  no — I  mean  yon  distant  one,  which  makes,  al- 
most like  a  carpenter's  centre-bit,  a  high  sharp  peak  in 
the  middle,  with  a  lower  one  at  each  side,  and  one  of 
them  more  spread  out  than  the  other." 

"Well;  I  see  it." 

"Well,  in  that  mountain  is  the  forest." 

"In  that  mountain?  why,  God  bless  me,  that's  fifty 
miles  off,  if  it's  a  yard." 

"No,  no,  it  is  no  such  thing,  and  you  will  soon  see  it 
enlarge  upon  the  eye.  But  here  our  good  road  termi- 
nates. The  phaeton  can  go  no  further,  and  here  are 
our  little  highland  steeds.  Let  us  mount  and  be  oflf— 
we  have  no  time  to  lose." 

Two  Httle  shaggy  animals  were  now  brought  forth  by 


12 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 


a  smart  young  man,  clad  in  the  phelibeg  and  plaid,  from. 
a  black  hut,  at  the  upper  end  of  the  basin  of  which  we 
have  spoken:  they  were  saddled  and  bridled  for  imme- 
diate use;  but  looked  as  if  their  backs  had  for  the  first 
time  been  made  acquainted  with  such  appurtenances. 
A  pound  of  hair  hung  at  each  heel,  their  manes  and  fore- 
head would  have  furnished  stuffing  lor  a  respectable 
mattrass,  and  a  Turkish  Pashah  would  have  thought 
himself  a  happy  man  to  have  got  hold  of  their  tails. 
Nevertheless,  wild  and  rough  as  they  were,  their  small 
and  well-shaped  heads,  round  quarters,  and  clean  made 
limbs,  indicated  a  degree  of  blood  and  breeding,  which 
their  action  and  powers  of  endurance  did  not  belie.  No 
sooner  had  the  gentlemen  mounted,  than  the  diminutive 
steeds  set  oft"  at  a  swift  and  easy  trot,  which  they  main- 
tained, even  when  the  increasing  badness  of  the  road 
would  have  rendered  a  slower  rate  of  motion  fully  as 
agreeable  to  the  young  Englishman. 

In  fact,  upon  leaving  the  farm  where  they  took  to  their 
horses,  the  regular  road,  which  stopped  at  that  point, 
was  succeeded  first  by  a  very  indifferent  cart  road;  this 
Boon  degenerated  into  such  a  track  as  is  formed  in  high- 
land districts  by  their  miserable  peat  cartSj  some  of  which 
consist  merely  of  a  large  inverted  cone,  formed  of  birch 
branches,  interw^oven  with  twigs,  and  set  upon  two 
shafts,  as  on  a  sledge,  guiltless  of  axle  or  wheels,  and 
which  are  dragged  over  the  rough  grround  by  a  wretched 
garron.  Even  this  poor  evidence  of  human  industry  and 
human  presence  disappeared  after  a  time,  nothing  re- 
mained to  direct  the  steps  of  the  travellers,  but  a  devi- 
ous track,  undeserving  even  the  name  of  a  bridle  path, 
formed  principally  by  foot  passengers  and  cattle,  who 
passed  these  wilds  in  the  way  to  and  from  the  western 
coast  of  the  island. 

There  was  also  a  gradual,  but  not  less  remarkable 
change  in  the  scenery,  as  the  travellers  increased  their 
distance  from  the  lower  glen.  The  mountains,  it  is  true, 
continued  to  be  clothed  wnth birch,  though  less  abundant- 
ly, and  of  more  stunted  growth;  but  the  skirts  of  the 
hills,  and  the  gravelly  knolls  on  either  side  the  road, 
were  thickly  covered  with  broom,  interspersed  with 
jjatches  of  brown  heather  and  fine  green  velvet  turf.  A 
few  cultivated  patches  occurred,  bearing  scanty  crops  of 
black  oats  or  rye,  or  a  wretched  mixture  of  both;  and 
sundry  plots  of  stinted  potatoes  already  bore  evidence  of 
the  action  of  frost.  The  huts  of  the  owners  partook  in 
the  deterioration  of  the  country,  becoming  more  and 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  13 

more  miserable,  until  the  only  dwellings  to  be  seen  were 
mere  heaps  of  black  turf,  partially  cov^ered  with  growing 
grass.  But  one  opening  was  to  be  seen  in  these,  by  which 
the  inhabitants  might  obtain  entrance;  and  the  smoke, 
after  circling  in  volumes  through  the  whole  interior,  . 
at  length  fou"nd  its  sluggish  exit  to  the  upper  air  through 
the  same  vent. 

As  they  proceeded,  even  the  stunted  birch  became 
more  rare;  rock  and  dark  peat-moss  occupied  its  place 
on  the  hill-sides,  which  rose  in  lumpy  ignoble  shapes,  cut 
into  innumerable  stony  ravines,  by  the  torrents  that  often 
rushed  from  their  summits.  Still,  however,  as  a  glen  or 
chasm  of  greater  depth  would  open  among  them,  rocks 
and  peaks  of  grander  dimensions  and  nobler  forms  ap- 
peared in  the  distance,  affording  evidence  that  the  tra- 
vellers had  in  truth  penetrated  into  the  more  remote  and 
loftier  regions  of  the  Highlands. 

"Your" fairy  land  is  ned,  Tresham,  I  fear;  how  hke 
you  this  change?" 

"Hum — not  of  the  most  agreeable,  certainly,  but  after 
what  we  have  seen,  I  were  a  beast  to  complain.  Your 
dwellings  here  are,  indeed,  not  magnificent,  nor  are 
your  crops  so  rich  as  some  we  have  passed;  but  I  espy 
some  good-looking  grouse  ground,  which  some  day  or 
other  I  hope  to  beat;  and  tliat  green  meadow,  that  bor- 
ders the  river,  with  its  few  birches  and  alders,  and  its 
stream  rushin,^  from  pool  to  pool,  has  no  small  amenity 
to  recommend  it — there  must  be  ^ood  trouting  there  too." 

"Why,  Tresham,  you  would  be  for  ever  at  the  trouts 

or  the  grouse;  and  truly  the  poor  birds  do  afford  fair 

sport  in  their  way,  when  no  nobler  game  can  be  had;  but 

wait,  my  friend,  till  you  see  a  deer  shot.    As  to  these 

hills;  you  would  find  poor  amusement  there.     The  day 

has  been,  to  be  sure,  when  a  good  shot  might  have  bagged 

his  twenty  brace  a-day  on  them  with  ease;  but  now,  from 

some  cause  or  other,  sheep,  muir-burning,  and  dogs — 

perhaps,  too,  from  modern  improvements  in  the  art  of 

filling  game,  and  the  gradual  progress  of  cultivation,  the 

jirds  have  ceased  to  breed  in  the  low  muirs,  so  that 

where  a  dozen  of  packs  might  formerly  have  been  seen, 

you  can  now  scarcely  find  a  single  brood." 

"JNot being aHighland laird,"  replied  Tresham,  I  can't 
say  I  approve  of  the  change;  but  cultivation  rather  leads 
to  increase  game  in  the  south — how  has  it  so  different 
an  effect  here?" 

"You  forget  the  different  habits  of  the  bird  from  those 
of  pheasants  or  partridges;  grouse  dislike  molestation. 

VOL.  I.  B 


14  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

Since  the  introduction  of  sheep,  for  one  set  of  hoofs  that 
paced  over  the  muirs,  when  they  were  only  under  black 
cattle,  there  are  now  a  hundred,  besides  the  infinitely 
increased  number  of  dogs,  which  feed  luxuriously  upon 
the  eggs  and  young  birds  in  their  seasons:  you  will  see 
at  once  how  such  an  increase  of  eaemies  must  lead  to 
the  decrease  of  the  game.  But  come — we  approach  an- 
other stage  of  our  journey,  and  another  change  in  the 
character  of  our  scenery.'' 

In  truth,  Tresham  had  begun  to  weary  of  the  eternal 
recurrence  of  low  unpicturesque  hills,  over  which  at 
length  the  road,  leaving  the  margin  of  the  river,  began 
to  ascend  through  tracks  of  gravelly  heights,  covered 
but  partially  with  dark  stunted  heather,  that  told  full 
plainly  the  extreme  poverty  of  the  soil. 

"Come,"  said  the  young  Englishman,  as  certain  dark 
purple  peaks  and  ridges  rose  into  view  over  the  insipid 
slope  on  which  they  were  riding^  "here  is  something,  a.t 
least,  which  promises  a  taste  ot  the  wild  and  grand,  if 
not  the  beautiful.  These  hills  are  assuming  a  more  im- 
posing character — this  may  do." 

They  soon  reached  the  summit  of  the  rocky  ridge 
which  they  had  for  some  time  been  gradually  ascending, 
and  which  ran  abruptly  across  the  glen,  forming  a  spe- 
cies of  natural  barrier  between  its  more  accessible  parts 
and  those  more  wild  and  remote: — and  wild  and  striking, 
of  a  truth,  was  the  scene  which  from  this  height  present- 
ed itself  to  the  eyes  of  the  sportsmen. 

A  massy  mountain,  whose  huge  members  stretched 
far  in  all  directions — some  in  ridges  that  descended  to 
the  river  bed,  others  verging  off  mto  separate  and  dis- 
tant valleys,  rose  upon  the  right  to  a  majestic  height, 
presenting  a  summit  divided  mto  three  rocky  peaks  of 
unequal  magnitude,  connected  together  by  a  serrated 
ridge  of  crags.  The  skirts  of  this  noble  mountain,  them- 
selves riven  into  a  world  of  less  important  hills,  exhibited 
a  striking  intermixture  of  gray  rock  and  dark  vvood, 
varied  with  heather  and  fern  in  profusion.  At  their  feet, 
the  river,  of  a  deep  mossy  hue,  streaked  and  mottled  with 
white  foam,  chafed  in  many  a  petty  fall  and  sharjD  rapid 
against  the  rocks  and  stones  of  its  bed,  the  banks  of  which 
were  fringed  with  shaggy  wood.  On  the  left  arose  a  hill, 
less  lofty  out  more  precipitous,  and  still  more,  thickly  co- 
vered with  wood,  in  which  the  dark  hue  of  the  native 
pine  was  conspicuousl)^  predominant;  and  behind  it  might 
be  seen  several  towering  peaks  and  huge  shoulders,  be- 
longing to  other  ranges,  of  which  itself  was  probably  but 
a  spur  or  offset. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLER3.  ,  15 

These  were  the  principal  features  of  the  coup  d-ceil; 
but  beyond  them  a  long  succession  of  mountains  threw 
their  vast  masses  athwart  the  fflen  in  an  infinite  variety 
of  form  and  hue,  while  dark  blue  peaks  closed  up  the 
long  perspective.  If  to  the  picture  we  have  thus  faintly 
attempted  to  sketch,  be  added  the  magic  influence  of 
light  and  shadow,  flitting  and  changing  with  every  cloud 
ot'a  summer's  forenoon,  sometimes  shrouding  the  giant 
shapes  in  deep  purple  gloom,  and  then  again  letting  in 
upon  their  bosoms  a  rich  stream  of  sunshine, — like  the 
light  of  science  revealing  the  secrets  of  naturNi — while 
the  mysterious  veil  would  slowly  roll  on,  to  envelope 
some  other  feature  of  the  landscape — if  such  a  combina- 
tion of  scenery  be  conceived,  the  rapturous  exclamations 
of  Henry  Tresham,  as  he  slowly  ascended  the  height  of 
which  we  have  spoken,  and  the  whole  landscape  rose 
gradually  into  existence  before  him,  may  find  both  ex- 
cuse and  sympathy. 

''This,"  said  he  at  length,  after  his  first  burst  of  as- 
tonishment was  past,  "this  is  in  very  deed  a  scene  for 
which  I  was  not  prepared!  If  you  had  let  me  leave  the 
country  without  showing  me  w^hat  I  now  see,  Charles, 
I  never  could  have  forgiven  you.  Switzerland  may 
afford  more  astounding  variety  of  feature — the  Pyre- 
nees, too,  are  no  doubt  far  more  rich  in  rock  and  wood; 
nor  do  I  venture  to  assert,  that  many  landscapes  more 
astonishing,  nay,  more  beautiful  than  that  before  us, 
might  not  be  selected  in  either  country;  but  I  will  say. 
that  I  can  scarcely  remember  ever  to  have  been  more 
highly  delighted  by  natural  scenery,  than  I  am  at  this 
moment." 

"You  gratify  me  much  by  saving  so,  Harry,  for  I  am 
quite  certain  you  speak  as  you  feel.  It  was  always  my 
plan  to  give  you  this  surprise,  but  I  thou^-ht  it  best  to 
time  it  so  as  to  embrace  some  other  object." 

"But  what  mountains  are  these?  and  how  do  you  call 
this  most  primitive  and  magnificent  valley  or  glen,  or 
what  else  it  may  be  termed?" 

"The  glen  before  you,"  replied  his  friend,  "is  Gleno- 
chree,  and  the  river  is  the  Ochree,  which  has  its  source 
in  a  little  mountain  lake,  some  fifteen  or  eighteen  miles 
hence.  It  has  feeders  also,  nearly  as  large  as  itself, 
which  take  their  rise  in  the  mountains  around  you, 
either  from  lochs  or  numerous  springs.  As  for  the 
mountains  themselves,  each  peak  and  separate  mass  has 
its  distinct  name,  although  the  range  of  hill  country  is 
known  by  the  general  appellation  of  Monadh-na-feh — 


16  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

sounded  shortly  Monehfeh — the  hills  of  the  deer.^ar  e:r- 
cellence,  from  the  number  and  size  of  the  deer  they  used 
to  produce — a  characteristic  which,  you  shall  have  proof, 
they  have  not  yet  forfeited.  This  dark  brown  hill  on  our 
riffht  is  Ben-dourich;  that  round  black  lumpish  mass 
which  protrudes  so  far  into  the  glen,  has  acquired  the 
name  of  Stronemuich,  or  the  hog's  nose,  from  some  fan- 
ciful resemblance  it  is  thought  lo  bear  to  that  animal. 
And  that  distant  peak  which  shuts  in  the  left  side  of  the 
vista,  is  Scoore-vialach,  with  which  you  may  proba- 
bly become  better  acquainted  ere  long,  if  legs  and  wind 
hold  good." 

\A  la  bonne  heure,  when  the  time  comes;— mean- 
Y/hile,  how  are  v/e  to  descend  from  our  altitudes — I  sup- 
pose we  have  still  some  distance  to  go?" 

"Aye,  verily — so  this  way.    Come,  follow  me." 

"How?  down  that  torrent's  bed? — Why  don't  we  keep 
the  road,  man?" 

'"Because  there  is  none  better  to  keep:  this  is  the  only 
path,  the  use  of  which,  as  you  may  perceive,  is  disputed 
by  man  and  the  elements;  for  down  the  track,  first  per- 
haps formed  by  him  or  other  animals, /e7'<^  natures,  the 
rains  and  floods  of  winter  have  found  their  way  in  tor- 
rents, so  that  his  feeble  traces  have  been  pretty  nigh  ef- 
faced." 

"Pretty  nigh!  egad,  the  last  thing  I  should  have  ima- 
gined would  be  that  he  ever  had  a  share  in  it  at  all; — 
why,  man,  youll  be  down  the  hill  by  the  run — the  horses 
can't  hold  on  there,  surely?    If  we  had  mules,  indeed — " 

"Take  my  advice,  Harry;  give  your  pony  its  head,  and 
trust  its  sureness  of  foot.  But  if  you  like  rather  to  trust 
to  your  feet  than  your  head,  dismount,  and  give  the  pony 
to  Angus  here." 

''And  faith,  so  I  will — my  own  legs  are  well-tried  ser- 
vants, the  pony's  are  strangers — so  here,  Angus,  take 
hold,  and  let  us  go  on. — Egad!  it  is  no  joke  even  on  foot." 

"So  think  I,"  said  Glenvallich,  "and  therefore  I  prefer 
keeping  on  those  oi" Bodach-ruah.— Come,  I'll  show  you 
the  way;"  and  giving  the  little  animal  its  full  head,  to- 
gether with  a  gentle  hint  from  the  switch,  away  went 
Bodach-ruah  with  the  laird,  steadily  and  securely,  while 
his  tViend  followed,  with  extreme  caution,  oyer  slippery 
shelvino-  rocks  and  gravel  beds,  that  sometimes,  to  his 
no  small  discomposure,  gave  way  under  his  {eet,  and 
slid  down  with  him  several  yards. 

The  pony,  when  it  reached  any  of  these  gravel  slips, 
would  gather  itself  together,  throw  forward  its  fore-feet, 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS,  17 

leaning  backwards  with  its  haunches  until  they  nearly 
touched  the  stones  behindj  and  thus  prepared,  it  woulcl 
slide  securely  to  the  bottom  of  the  broken  ground.  On 
the  other  hand,  when  a  rocky;  shelf  occurred,  it  was 
wonderful  to  see  the  caution  with  which  it  took  advan- 
tage of  every  ledge,  inclining  its  body  to  the  brae  face, 
and  pressing  against  every  rough  edge  of  the  stone  to 
secure  a  footing  for  its  little  hoofs;  nor  would  it  venture 
to  lift  a  second  foot  until  the  first  was  surely  disposed  of 

Having  safely  reached  the  bottom  of  this  beallach,  or 
pass,  they  pursued  their  way  through  the  rough  and 
Droken  ground  upon  the  lip  of  the  river  bank,  sometimes 
dipping  almost  into  its  stream,  at  others,  rising  high  to 
avoid  the  craggy  promontories  among  rough  and  scat- 
tering wood;  or  passing  along  the  face  of  rocky  preci- 
Ibices,  under  which  the  black  boiling  water  roared  and 
foamed  along  with  a  fearful  rapidity.  At  such  places, 
Tresham  would  invariably  dismount,  although  his  friend 
continued  on  his  pony,  unless  when  the  ledge  became  so 
narrow  that  an  incautious  swerve  or  an  accidental  jerk 
might  have  thrown  the  little  animal  off  its  balance,  and 
sent  horse  and  rider  to  the  bottom. 

"A  pretty  ticklish  sort  of  path,  I  vow,"  observed  Tre- 
sham, "greatly  more  to  the  taste  of  goats,  I  should 
opine,  than  of  any  other  hving  creature.  I  have  seen 
such,  to  be  sure,  in  Spain,  and  their  capital  mules  go 
safely  enough  over  them;  I  never  liked  them  though — 
but  is  this  road,  if  road  you  insist  on  calling  it,  much 
travelled?" 

"O,  aye,  a  good  deal  by  people  from  the  other  side — 
that  is,  the  west-coast  glens  and  lochs;  and  those  also, 
who  have  cattle  business  among  the  chief  inland  glens. ' 
If  you  were  to  follow  titis  glen  to  its  head,  you  would 
see  the  water  running  to  both  seas  from  the  same  ridges." 

"And  what  may  be  the  principal  business  which  takes 
them  through  this  glen,  in  defiance  of  such  roads?" 

"O  various  business— but  chiefly  droving.  Cattle  and 
sheep  both  go  and  come  this  way,  to  and  from  the  low 
country  markets — wool  too,  is  carried  down  the  glen — 
wood  is  cut  and  floated  down  the  stream;  and  I  am  sorry 
to  say  that  too  much  grain  is  carried  into  the  recesses  of 
these  and  other  wild  hills,  for  the  purpose  of  illicit  distil- 
lation." 

"Ah,  smuggling;  have  you  such  work  here?  I  thought 
there  was  an  end  to  all  that." 

"Far,  far  from  it.  I  am  concerned  to  say.  There  never 
b2 


18  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

perhaps  was  a  time  when  more  is  done  in  that  way;  and 
much  evil  does  it  cause  in  the  country." 

"Why  no  doubt  it  is  a  bad  thin^,  and  you  as  a  High- 
land chieftain,  and  by  consequence,  a/a^/ieroryour  peo- 
ple, are  quite  right  to  concern  yourself  about  their  mo- 
rals; but  why  the  deuce  don't  you  put  a  stop  to  the  thing 
then?" 

"Aye,  why  indeed — w^hy  canH  we,  you  should  say. 
Look  at  these  mountains,  these  rocks  and  woods;  do  you 
think  it  an  easy  or  a  possible  matter  for  the  eyes  of  chief- 
tain laird,  or  exciseman,  to  discover  what  is  going  on  at 
all  times  through  their  recesses?  No,  no;  there  is  too 
much  encouragement  given  to  illicit  distillation  under 
present  circumstances,  to  leave  a  hope  of  checking  it." 

"Why,  what  encouragements?" 

"O  it  would  be  too  long  a  story  to  enter  upon  at  pre- 
sent, and  perhaps  you  might  neither  be  enlightened  nor 
interested  with  my  reasoning  on  the  subject:  we  may 
recur  to  it,  if  you  like,  at  some  other  time  when  amuse- 
ment runs  so  low  that  a  question  of  political  economy 
may  be  bearable." 

"Ah,  with  all  my  heart;  I  am  not  very  curious  at  pre- 
sent. But  pray  tell  me,  do  these  wild  mountains — these 
rocks  I  would  say,  yield  you  any  return  in  coin?  have 
they  any  inhabitants  save  deer  and  blackcock?" 

"O  yes;  they  are  all  under  sheep." 

"Sheep!  why  I  don't  see  a  fleece." 

"No;  they  are  not  allowed  to  come  so  far  down  the 
hills  at  this  season;  they  are  kept  on  the  heights  beyond 
our  sight;  the  lower  parts  of  the  glen  and  the  riv^er  sides 
are  reserved  for  a  later  period  of  the  year,  when  the 
weather  becomes  too  severe  for  the  animals  to  remain 
above." 

.   "And  these  sheep,  or  their  owners,  pay  you  a  rent  for 
the  use  of  these  same  rocks." 

"Yes;  besides  we  get  timber  from  them." 

"Timber!  of  what  sort?" 

"Oak  and  fir.  I  could  show  you  oak  coppice  which 
yields  a  very  handsome  return  once  in  twenty  or  five- 
and-tw^enty  years,  and  which  would  do  greatly  more  if 
preserved  from  damage  by  animals,  and  if  we  had  roads 
to  brin^  it  to  market  iDy." 

"And  why  have  you  not  roads?" 

"Because  making  a  road  of  such  extent  in  such  a  coun- 
try, would  be  too  gigantic  an  undertaking  for  any  single 
proprietor,  and  the  country  ffives  aid  only  to  such  lines 
of  road  as  are  deemed  widely  useful;  and  government 


THE  HIGHLAND  S.Aa'GGLERS.  19 

only  countenances  those  which  are  recommended  by 
their  own  officers." 

"But  where  grows  your  fir  timber?-' 

"Where!  look  around  you." 

"Well,  I  do,  and  see  little  except  stunted  oak,  rasr^ed 
birch  and  alder;  unless  those  blackish  green  dwarfish- 
looking  shrubs,  scattered  among  the  bushes  on  the  other 
side,  be  fir;  they  look  well,  and  contrast  well  with  the 
heath  and  rich  fern  which  covers  the  rocks — but  surely 
you  don't  call  these  bushes  timber  trees." 

"Dwarfish  bushes,  you  call  them,  do  you?  well,  move 
we  on;  you  will  learn  to  estimate  heights,  sizes,  and  dis- 
tances among  these  mountains  more  justly,  ere  long. 
How  far  now  should  you  conceive  the  opposite  bank  to 
be  distant  from  us,  as  we  stand?" 

"How  far!  why,  a  hundred  or  a  hundred  and  fifty 
yards  perhaps." 

■'I  should  have  expected  a  more  accurate  judgment 
from  your  military  eye;  four  hundred  yards  v/ould  not 
reach  it.  It  is  the  abrupt  ruggedness  of  these  rocks  and 
hills  which  disguises  their  height  and  magnitude,  and 
misleads  your  eye  in  estimating  those  of  objects  upon 
them:  there  are  many  of  these  bushes,  as  you  call  them, 
that  would  yield  a  stick  of  three  feet  diameter  to  the 
saw." 

During  the  progress  of  this  conversation,  the  path- 
way., leav^ing  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  the  river, 
rose  once  more  among  crags  and  knolls,  but  of  a  very 
ditierent  character  from  those  they  had  left  behind  them. 
One  might  have  imagined  that  the  fragments  of  a  shi- 
vered mountain  of  granite  had  been  thrown  and  heaped 
confusedly  together.  Some  vast  masses  which,  in  spite 
of  their  coat  of  gray  lichens,  still  displayed  the  gigantic 
stratification  of  the  parent  rock,  had  their  crests  covered 
with  luxuriant  heather  and  fern;  others,  severed  from 
the  greater  cliffs  by  the  action  of  time  and  of  the  ele- 
ments, reared  their  pointed  and  pyramidal  forms  on 
high,  hke  tottering  towers,  while  the  rest  lay  scattered 
every  where  in  shapeless  blocks  among  the  more  con- 
siderable masses.  All  were  more  or  less  overgrown 
with  heather,  ferns,  and  other  mountain  herbage,  ren- 
dered luxuriant  by  the  constant  moisture  which  prevails 
in  such  elevated  regions — a  humidity  which,  while  it 
nourishes  the  springing  vegetation,  promotes  the  de- 
composition of  that  which  falls  into  decay.  Still,  much 
of  rock  remained  exposed,  and  many  a  yawning  chasm 
— the  haunt  no  doubt,  at  this  time,  of  the  fox,  the  badger 


20  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

and  the  wild  cat,  as  of  old  of  the  wolf  or  the  wild  boar- 
rendered  clambering  among  the  matted  bushes  not  only 
painful  but  hazardous. 

But  heather  or  lichens  were  not  the  only  productions 
of  these  rocks  and  mountains.  The  oak.  the  ash,  and 
the  birch,  sprung  up  spontaneously  among  them,  twist- 
ing their  gnarled  roots  among  their  crevices,  and  draw- 
ing nourishment  and  support  apparently  from  the  very 
suDstance  of  the  stone:  and  here,  in  all  its  native  wild- 
ness,  might  be  seen  the  indigenous  tenant  of  the  High- 
land woods,  the  mountain  pine,  the  gloomy  Scotch  fir— 
and  who  that  has  seen  this  pride  of  the  ancient  forest,  in 
all  its  savage  Salvator-like  magnificence,  flinging  its 
thousand  twisted  arms  abroad  to  the  four  winds  ofTiea- 
ven — its  trunk  a  pillar  of  enduring  strength — its  richly 
coloured  branches  covered  with  dense  masses  of  dark 
spine-like  leaves,  scarcely  yielding  to  the  breeze, — could 
believ^e  it  to  be  the  same  tall,  slender,  formal  shrub, 
which  forms  the  bulk  of  many  a  modern  plantation;  or 
would  dispute  its  high  pre-eminence  in  picturesque  effect 
among  the  noblest  productions  of  the  vegetable  world? 

In  situations  suited  to  its  habits,  and  enjoying  free 
scope  to  put  forth  all  its  vigour,  the  Scotch  fir  rises  to  a 
respectable,  often  to  a  majestic  height:  even  when  con- 
fined in  a  hollow,  and  shooting  upward  with  a  high  and 
branchless  stem,  in  search  oi"  air  and  light,  its  head  is 
still  picturesque  and  spreading;  but,  when  enjoying  a 
due  portion  of  those  blessings  which  are  alike  indispen- 
sable to  the  vegetable  and  animal  creation,  it  lifts  its 
thick,  comparatively  short  bole,  covered  with  gray  sca- 
brous bark,  in  the  most  varied  shapes;  when  its  limbs 
issuing  from  the  stem  in  bold  fantastic  sweeps,  spread 
into  innumerable  branches  of  a  rich  orange  tinge,  termi- 
nating in  a  forest  of  spray:  then  is  it  seen  in  its  glory — 
then  IS  it  worthy  to  stand  beside  the  oak  itself,  an  orna- 
ment suited  to  the  noblest  park. 

"See,  Henry,"  said  Glenvallich,  as  rounding  one  of 
these  rocky  knolls,  they  entered  a  hollow,  the  sides  of 
which  were  garnished  with  many  of  these  singularly 
characteristic  trees,  "look  now  at  these  fellows— what 
think  you  of  them  for  a  sample?  yet  I  can  assure  you 
they  are  nothing  at  all  compared  with  thousands  which 
I  could  show  you  in  this  glen  and  its  tributary  corries." 

"They  are  most  picturesque  and  original,  as  well  as 
beautiful  objects,"  replied  Tresham,  "and  are  in  perfect 
harmony  with  one  of  the  most  striking  landscapes  I  ever 
remember  to  have  seen;  but  I  doubt  if  they  would  by  any 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  21 

means  come  up  to  your  description,  or  near  it.  Now, 
that  tree  yonder — that  with  the  curious  twisted  bough 
and  thick  top — what  a  capital  study  lor  a  painter,  yet 
surely  he  would  never  be  worth  cutting  for  tiraber." 

"I  see  you  must  have  a  lesson,  Hal.  Come,  give  the 
gillie  your  pony,  and  let  us  go  up  to  that  tree  and  judge 
of  its  size  when  we  reach  it." 

They  did  so.  To  scale  the  rough  crag  was  a  task  of 
greater  difficulty  than  Tresham  could  have  believed,  for 
his  eve  had  deceived  him  as  to  the  height  of  this  as  well 
as  of  other  objects.  Th^ledges  of  the  rock,  up  which 
he  thought  he  could  skip  as  on  steps  of  stairs,  turned  out 
upon  approach  to  be  something  hke  a  giant's  causeway; 
and  althoao'h  the  heather  afforded  him  a  hold  by  which 
he  was  enabled  to  climb  from  one  point  to  another,  yet 
it  sorely  embarrassed  his  feet.  Glenvallich  stood  by  the 
tree  long  before  the  panting  Tresham  had  reached  the 
summit.  "Well,  what  say  you  to  this  small  specimen 
of  forest  work  and  forest  timberl" 

"Why,  fair— very  fair,"  replied  Tresham,  halting  to 
recover  breath;  "bigger — bigger  a  good  deal — than  I 
could  have  supposed  down  yonder;  but  far,  far  from  your 
estimate." 

"Tut,  man!  come  hither.  What!  not  blown  with  this 
httle  burst,  surely?" 

"No,  not  blown  just— bat— but  faith  that's  a  sharp  pull 
too,  for  a  man  not  in  training.  I  have  not  had  much  to 
do  with  precipices  lately,  you  know." 

"Precipices,  indeed!  But  turn  your  eyes  on  our  tree, 
man — what  say  you  now?" 

"Say!"  exclaimed  Tresham,  who  had  now  got  close 
to  the  object  of  their  attention— why,  that  I  am  thunder- 
struck! Good  heavens!  what  a  deception— what  a  tree 
—I  am  perfectly  amazed!  Who  would  have  imagined 
that  a  iew  yards  would  have  made  so  astonishing  a  dif- 
ference in  its  apparent  bulk!  I  confess  that  this  is  a  tree 
fit  for  any  thing,  and  yet  from  where  we  stood  below,  I 
could  not  have  believed  it  twenty  feet  high,  nor  w^orth 
the  cuttinsr.    Let  us  measure  it." 

It  proved  to  be  full  eight  feet  in  girth  at  five  feet  from 
the  ground,  and  in  spite  of  its  numerous  branches,  they 
calculated  that  it  would  afford  at  least  eight-and-twenty 
feet  in  length  of  first-rate  timber. 

"That  tree,"  said  Glenvallich,  "if cut  and  floated  down 
to  the  shipping  place,  would  be  worth  at  least  four  gui- 
neas.   So  much  for  appearances." 

"Well,  my  Iriend.  this  is  a  lesson,  and  I  shall  not  for- 
get it.  But  still  I  stand  amazed  at  the  facts  before  me." 


22  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

A  succession  of  scenery  similar  in  character,  but  so 
various  in  form  and  effect,  as  to  be  any  thing  rather  than 
monotonous  or  tiresome,  continued  for  several  miles, 
when  the  glen  once  more  opened  out,  and  the  eyes  of 
the  travellers  were  greeted  by  the  dancing  waves  and 
deep  blue  gleam  of  a  sheet  of  water,  two  or  three  miles 
long,  which  sparkled  in  the  fervent  rays  of  a  noon-day 
sun. 

The  slopes  of  the  receding  mountains,  which  formed 
the  shores  of  the  lake,  were  still  plentifully  sprinkled 
with  wood;  it  grew  more  thickly  still  upon  their  skirts,  but 
their  upper  regions  were  varied  with  rock  and  heather^ 
and  green  pasture,  defaced  with  long  scaurs,  or  slips  of 
red  or  gray  stones,  and  deeply  indented  with  the  beds  of 
torrents;  while  the  crests  rose  in  craggy  ridges  of  a  dark 
brown  hue,  sometimes  precipitous,  in  other  parts  round 
and  lumpy.  Towards  the  upper  end  of  the  loch,  were 
now  seen  the  mountains  which  had  appeared  so  remote 
in  the  earlier  part  of  their  journey;  but  their  gigantic 
features  still  loomed  gray  and  indistinct  from  the  distance 
that  yet  intervened. 

The  lake  itself  was  of  that  dark  purple  hue,  which  is 

E reduced  by  the  mossy  water  of  moimtain  streams.  Its 
anks  were  in  some  places  closely  fringed  with  wood;  in 
others,  the  shelving  rocks  of  the  mountain  came  black 
and  sheer  down  to  the  water,  and  fancy  might  continue 
their  direction  beneath  its  surface  to  a  tremendous  depth; 
a  persuasion  which  the  inky  blackness  of  the  water  tend- 
ed strongly  to  confirm.  The  reeds  at  the  other  end,  on 
the  contrary,  denoted  the  shallowness  of  the  lake  in  that 
Quarter;  many  wild  ducks,  with  their  broods,  sprung 
from  among  them  as  the  travellers  passed  by,  and  the 
heron,  scared  from  his  sentinel  station  on  some  gray 
stone,  rose  heavily  upon  his  broad  wings,  and  slowly 
soared  across  the  loch. 

"Be  cautious  here,  Tresham.*'  said  Glenvallich.  "It 
may  be  as  well  to  dismount;  for  the  path  across  this 
rocky  face  is  none  of  the  best,  and  the  loch  is  abundantly 
deep." 

"Both  are  self-evident  truths,  Charles,  not  to  be  dis- 
puted; and  I  readily  embrace  your  hint.  The  loch,  no 
doubt,  would  be  very  inconveniently  deep,  and  although 
I  do  svyim,  I  have  no  mind  for  such  a  plunge  as  this." 

"Faith!  it  were  as  well  avoided.  There  have  been 
fatal  accidents  here  before  now;  and  the  fall  of  a  rock 
from  the  cliffs  above  us,  a  thing  of  no  uncommon  occur- 
rence, might  startle  the  ponies  to  our  discomfiture.    In 


THE  HIGHLA>-D  SMUGGLERS.  23 

this  very  spot,"  continued  he,  as  they  passed  the  dan- 
g^erous  step  on  foot — "in  this  very  spot  did  a  farmer  from 
the  West  country,  and  his  servant,  returning  from  a 
cattle  market  one  winter's  evening-,  perish  in  the  gulf 
below  us.  The  snow  was  deep,  the  early  evening-  had 
closed  in,  the  narrow  path  had  been  efiaced  by  the  drift, 
and  darkness  doubtless  caused  them  to  miss  their  foot- 
ing. A  dog  belonging  to  the  farmer,  appearing  at  a 
house  far  below  in  the  glen,  attracted  the  notice  of  the 
inhabitants  by  its  singular  behaviour  and  obvious  dis- 
tress. It  was  said,  indeed,  that  the  o-udewile  had  been 
disturbed  by  painful  dreams,  which  led  her  to  suspect 
that  something  was  wrong.  The  farmer  was  a  distant 
relation,  and  so  the  gudeman  and  his  son,  with  a  ser- 
vant, set  forth,  following  the  dog,  which  ran  on  before 
them,  looking  back  ever  and  anon  to  see  that  they  were 
at  his  heels;  and  thus  were  they  led  to  the  spot.  In  the 
meantime,  the  drift  had  increased  so  much,  that  the 
place  where  the  unfortunate  men  had  fallen  in  could  not 
have  been  discovered  but  for  the  dog,  which,  makine-  its 
way  down  to  the  loch  side,  got  hold  of  a  corner  orthe 
farmer's  plaid.  The  torn  condition  of  the  tartan  ren- 
dered it  probable  that  the  poor  animal  had  continued 
long  to  tug  at  this,  before  instinct  led  it  to  abandon  the 
attempt  in  order  to  seek  tor  more  efficient  aid.  It  was  at 
the  risk  of  their  own  lives,  that  the  persons  so  strangely 
summoned  could  extricate  the  bodies;  and  the  place  has 
ever  since  been  held  in  a  sort  of  superstitious  abhorrence 
for  no  reason,  that  I  can  discover,  so  sufficient  as  its  own 
dangerous  nature." 

A  little  above  the  loch,  the  stream  had  burst  its  way 
through  a  ridge  of  rocks  that  stretched  across  the  glen, 
which  at  this  point  once  more  changed  its  rugged  cha- 
racter for  one  of  a  more  pastoral  description.  The 
stream  wound  along  with  sluggish  motion,  and  in  a  very 
devious  course,  through  a  meadow  of  rich  natural  grass, 
where  cattle  were  feeding;  and  a  black  hut,  or  shealing. 
just  like  a  peat  stack  half  grown  with  grass,  indicated 
the  dwelling  of  him  who  took  care  of  them.  Wood  was 
here  scanty^  and  the  hills,  covered  with  mingled  heather 
and  grass,  evinced  marks  of  muir-burning,  and  rose  pre- 
cipitously from  the  level  .=!lope  at  their  feet. 

"We  approach  our  ground,  and  our  place  of  repose 
for  the  night,"  said  Glenvallich.  "I  dare  say  you  will 
not  be  sorry  to  examine  the  fare  which  old  Martin  has 
provided  for  us.  See  where  yon  black  rock  juts  into  tlie 
glen:  there  are  a  few  birch  trees  scattered  about  the 


24  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

crags  above  it.  Our  bothy  is  there;  and  all  you  see  here 
on  every  side,  and  indeed  since  we  passed  the  lower  end 
of  Loch  Durich,  is  the  deer  Ibrest.  That  wild-looking 
mountain  opposite,  which  extends  the  whole  way  along 
the  loch-side,  and  which  is  cut  into  numberless  little 

flens  and  corries,  is  the  preserve — the  sanctum — where 
can  at  all  times  make  sure  of  finding  a  deer.  No  other 
hoof  is  permitted  to  intrude  there:  sheep  from  the  neigh- 
bouring farms  are  pinded*  goats  are  shot,  and  black 
cattle  never  go  so  far  a-field.  The  ground  is  the  very 
best  possible  lor  deer — plenty  of  wood  with  deep  rough 
burns  to  lie  in — grass  in  abundance — noble  corries,  both 
high  and  low — capital  passes  to  stand  in  for  a  shot,  if 
you  want  to  drive  them — and  a  range  of  fifteen  thousand 
acres  of  land." 

''Fifteen  thousand  acres!  You  do  amaze  me!  You  a 
prudent  man,  giv^e  up  fifteen  thousand  acres  of  land  for 
the  sake  of  a  few  deer!    What  an  extravagant  sacrifice." 

''Not  so  great  as  you  imagine,  and  as  you  will  see  to- 
morrow. The  forest  contains  twice  as  much;  but  the 
rest  is  not  strictly  preserved— it  is  let  for  sheep,  and  pays 
me  rent:  so  that  all  I  have  to  do  is,  to  provide  as  much  as 
possible  against  poachers,  and  let  the  deer  find  by  ex- 
perience that  the  preserve  is  a  place  of  safety,  whereto 
they  may  fly  in  case  of  being  disturbed." 

One  more  hour's  riding  carried  them  to  the  point  which 
Glenvallich  had  indicated.  On  turning  it,  Tresham  saw 
a  httle  green  spot  surrounded  by  hoary  stunted  birch 
trees,  growing  upon  rocks  as  gray  as  themselves.  Close 
beneath  these  trees  stood  some  black  huts,  chiefly  to  be 
discerned  by  smoke  which  arose  from  the  roofs  of  one  or 
two  among  the  erroup;  for  the  walls  were  so  green,  as  to 
leave  it  doubtful  whether  they  were  not  rather  mounds 
of  earth  than  habitations  for  men,  A  meadow^  of  a  full 
mile  in  breadth,  which  lost  itself  at  either  end,  behind  the 
overlapping-  shoulders  of  the  hills,  was  stretched  before 
this  nest  ol  huts.  This  rich  piece  of  pasture  was  inter- 
sected by  the  numerous  windings  of  the  stream,  now 
diminished  to  a  mere  burn,  and  interspersed  with  patches 
of  peat-bog  and  heather.  On  the  opposite  side  of  this 
meadow  rose  a  huge  mountain,  the  bosom  of  which  was 
covered  with  scattered  wood  in  all  stages  of  luxuriance 
and  decay:  and  several  chasms,  black  with  rock  and 
shadow,  served  as  beds  for  the  torrents,  which,  collect- 
ing on  the  broad  surface  above,  were  even  at  this  time 
seen,  like  silver  threads,  hurrying  down  the  steep  decli- 

*  Or  poinded,  Scottice  for  seized. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  25 

vity,  or  precipitating  themselves  in  a  series  of  petty  cas- 
cades from  ledge  to  ledge  of  the  rock,  which  their  vio- 
lence had  laid  bare. 

Above  this  region  rose  the  great  mass  of  the  mountain, 
exhibiting  a  variegated  expanse  of  rich  purple  heather 
and  gray^moss,  interspersed  with  stripes  and  patches  of 
green  grass,  indicating  perennial  springs;  and  of  peat 
moss,  evidencing  itselfin  black  cracks  and  spots,  which 
pervaded  a  great  portion  of  its  surface.  White  or  gray 
rock  stared  through  the  surface  in  all  quarters;  and  the 
summit  which  rose  in  several  sharp  points  connected  with 
one  great  lumpy  ridge,  appeared  to  be  formed  of  dark 
lead-coloured  stones^with  a  few  scattered  blades  of  yel- 
low grass. 

The  mountains  behind  the  bothies  were  of  a  similar 
character,  but  still  more  rocky  and  precipitous;  and  at 
some  distance  further,  the  glen  appeared  to  terminate  in 
a  dark  mass  of  peaks  and  ridges,  so  jagged  and  confused, 
as  to  suggest  the  idea  of  a  distant  peep  of  chaos. 

''Here  we  are  at  length,"'  said  Glenyallich,  springing 
from  his  pony  as  he  approached  the  largest  of  the  huts, 
"and  time  it  is,  perhaps  you  will  say." 

"Why  not  sorry  certainly,  though  I  must  say  the  way 
has  seemed  anything  rather  than  tedious,"  replied  his 
friend.  "But,  holla!  what's  here,  we  did  not  come  all 
this  way  to  meet  with  Actseon's  fate  I  hope?''  There 
seemed  to  be  some  reason  for  dreading  such  a  contingen- 
cy, for  as  they  neared  the  bothy,  a  couple  of  black  and  tan 
shaggy  shepherd's  dogs,  three  rough  terriers  of  the  Skye 
breed,  whosebeauty  consists  in  their  unqualified  ugliness, 
and  as  many  huge  wiry-haired  deer-hounds,  rushed  like 
furies  from  the  door  of  a  neighbouring  hut,  with  a  vol- 
ley of  barking  and  howling  tliat  intimated  very  wrathful 
intentions,  and  made  straisrht  for  the  gentlemen.  But 
the  cause  of  alarm  was  only  momentary;  for  no  sooner 
did  they  observe  the  laird  and  his  gillie,*  than  their  an- 
gry greetings  changed  into  whinings  and  yelpings  of  joy, 
and  the  monstrous  hounds,  with  the  force  and  elasticity 
of  a  spring  let  loose  of  a  sudden,  bounded  towards  their 
master,  overwhelmed,  and  almost  overset  him  with  their 
uncouth  caresses. 

"Down,  Bran!— down,  Luath!— Fioun!  behave,  vou 
rascal,"  cried  Glenvallich,  extricating  himself  from  their 
embraces,  and  the  dogs  crouched  at  his  feet. 

"Fine  Ossianic  names  these  truly,"  said  Tresham, 
laughing,  "but  it  is  all  right;    the   names  of  ancient 
*  Lad,  young  man,  attendant. 

VOL.  \.  C 


^#J 


96  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

son^  and  story  suit  well  with  the  scenes  and  the  subjects 
they  celebrate.  I  dare  say  there's  not  a  bare-legged  gil- 
lie of  your  'tail'  now,  but  can  spout  Ossian,  as  you  used 
to  do  Homer  and  Virgil,  by  the  thousand  lines,  or  as  they 
say  the  Persian  grooms  do,  who  have  all  Hafiz  and  Saa- 
dee  at  their  tongues'  end." 

"O,  we  have  Ossianic  names  in  abundance,  and  plenty 
of  traditions  of  the  Fingallians  too,  in  this  country.  It 
was,  we  are  assured,  a  great  haunt  of  these  heroes,  and 
many  of  the  mountains,  rocks,  and  corries  around  you, 
bear  their  names,  or  appellations  allusive  to  their  attri- 
butes and  customs.  The  very  hill  tihat  rises  above  us  is 
caUedJJiaiJillan,  Fillan's  castle  or  fort;  that  rug^^ed  ridge 
opposite,  has  obtained  the  name  of ' Kheiine-na-UiskaT ,'''' 
or  'the  step  of  Oscar."  A  great  black  rocky  hollow,  fa- 
mous in  all  times  as  now,  for  being  the  resort  of  deer, 
and  still  more  so  for  the  nature  of  its  passes,  which  are 
so  easily  commanded  that  the  animals  once  in  them  can- 
not escape,  is  termed  'Choru-  Uiskar,''  'Oscar's  caldron,' 
from  a  story  of  some  monstrous  slaughter  of  deer  com- 
mitted by  that  worthy,  who  reached  that  place  by  a  mar- 
vellously swift  and  dangerous  run  across  the  'step'  above. 
That  peaked  and  craggy  mountain  in  shadow  at  the  head 
of  the  glen,  is  called  'par  excellence,'  on  the  'Liicus  a 
11071  lucendo'  principle  doubtless,  Bord-na-Fionn,''  the 
table  of  the  Fingallians,  and  there  is  a  great  huge  lump 
which  you  can't  see  from  where  we  are,  which  is  digni- 
fied by  the  appellation  of  ' Stol-e- ToJi-iosal,''  or  'the  seat 
of  Ton-iosal,'  a  heavy-sterned  hero  of  those  days,  who, 
though  brave  as  a  lion,  was  so  unwieldy  or  lazy,  that  the 
force  of  a  hundred  men  was  required  to  get  him  on  his 
legs  when  once  he  had  'taken  the  cliair.' 

"Hah,  a  proper  fellow,  truly,  and  the  story  is  no  doubt 
as  worthy  of  credit  and  attention  as  most  of  those  relat- 
ing to  that  marvellous  race.  But  I  forgot — we  are  on 
tender  ground,  and  assuredly,  when  surrounded  by  this 
magnificent  scenery,  so  well  suited  to  these  imposing 
names,  it  is  not  just  the  moment  to  sneer  at  Ossian  or  his 
heroes)  and  faith,  I  must  say,  there  is  something  spirit- 
stirring  and  inspiring  to  find  oneself  on  classic  ground, 
as  it  were,  on  the  very  spot  where  the  mighty  have  trod, 
when  all  around  harmonizes  with  the  ideas  conjured  up 
by  their  memories.  Filled  with  the  thoughts  of  the  swift- 
footed  Oscar,  now,  I  have  not  a  doubt  that  I  could  breast 
a  mountain  after  one  of  the  dun  deer,  with  twice  the  vi- 
gour I  could  exert  without  such  a  stimulus,  and  depend 
upon  it  I  shall  acquit  myself  famously  to-morrow.    But 


THE  HIGnLAND  SMUGGLERS.  27 

which  way  now? — whicli  is  your  Highland  domicile?  A 
seat  and  a  drop  of  the  mountain  dew — or,  faith,  even  a 
glass  of  the  less  appropriate,  but  not  unpalatable  liquor 
'}'clept  'old  madeira,'  would  prov^e  exceedingly  consola- 
tory to  the  inward  man — eh!  what  say  you?" 

"By  all  means,  Hal — follow  me."  And  he  led  the  way 
to  the  low-browed  entrance  of  the  hut  before  which  they 
had  been  standing-. 

"  WhatI  there?  this  your  bothy?  this  your  hunting  seat? 
it's  a  bothy  this,  with  a  vengeance,  man!"  and  Tresham 
stopped  for  a  moment  ere  he  entered,  to  examine  the  ex- 
terior of  his  future  quarters. 


CHAPTER  H. 


A  HIGHLAND  FORESTER. 

A  blessing  upon  thy  heart,  lie  said, 
Good  fellowe,  thy  shooting  is  good, 

For  an'  thy  heart  be  as  good  as  thy  hand, 
Thou  wert  better  than  Robin  Hood. 

The  bothy,  to  all  appearance,  w^as  built  precisely  of 
the  same  materials  and  in  the  same  fashion  as  other 
Highland  huts,  or  shealings,  (as  the  occasional  abodes 
of  shepherds  in  remote  glens  are  generally  termed.)  ex- 
cept in  as  far  as  it  was  larger  and  more  lofty  than  those 
around  it.  The  walls,  externally  at  least,  were  formed 
of  divots;  that  is,  sods  cut  with  the  heather  or  grass 
growing  on  them,  the  matted  roots  of  which  give  a 
firmer  texture  to  the  soil  of  which  the  mass  is  composed. 

These  are  built  one  upon  another,  in  courses,  long- 
wise or  edgewise,  like  bricks;  and,  supported  by  a  frame 
work  of  timber,  make  a  firm  and  warm  wall.  The  roof 
was  formed  of  the  same  materials,  laid  upon  small  raft- 
ers, (or  as  they  are  called  in  the  country,  A'C'ierj?,)  and 
covered  with  a  heather  thatch;  and  in  this  martner,  bat- 
ing only  the  heather  thatch,  are  the  majority  of  the  black 
huts,  which  form  the  abodes  of  the  Highland  peasantry, 
chiefly  or  ent  irely  built,  to  the  great  injury  of  the  ground 
in  their  neighbourhood,  the  surface  of  which  becomes 
thus  most  wastefully  peeled,  because  the  lazy  tenant 


28  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

"canna  be  fashed"  to  erect  a  better  habitation  of  the 
stones,  and  wood,  and  heather,  which  are  always  to  be 
found  in  abundance  near  him. 

A  small  square  pavement  of  pebbles  placed  before  the 
doorway  of  this  tenement,  prevented  the  lodg-ment  there 
of  the  water  which  formed  pools  in  front  of  the  other 
huts;  and  a  small  window,  consisting  of  six  panes  of  glass 
in  a  casement  opening  inwards,  betokened,  when  it  was 
observed,  (a  matter  not  of  absolute  necessity,  from  the 
thickness  of  the  wall  in  which  it  was  sunk,)  a  degree  of  re- 
finement scarcely  in  unison  with  the  materials  around  it. 

On  entering  the  door-way,  to  effect  which  our  Eng- 
lishman was  forced  to  stoop  rather  lower  than  was 
agreeable,  Tresham  found  himself  in  a  passage  tbrmed 
of  clay  and  wattle,  which  divided  the  interior  into  two 
parts.  A  glance  in  passing  showed,  on  the  one  hand,  a 
dark  space  of  undefined  dimensions,  filled  with  smoke, 
amidst  which  sparkled  the  embers  of  a  peat  fire;  several 
<iim  shapes,  like  ghosts  hovering  in  their  own  gray  mist, 
might  be  detected  sitting  round  this  dubious  light,  or 
flitting  about  in  the  thick  atmosphere.  A  qualm  of  un- 
easiness came  over  the  Englishman  as  his  eye  fell  on 
this  suspicious  limbo-like  hole;  but  he  yielded  to  the  im- 
pulse of  his  host's  arm,  as  he  threw  open  the  door  of  an 
opposite  apartment,  the  appearance  of  which,  as  it  broke 
upon  him  after  the  other,  afforded  infinite  relief  to  his 
mind.  The  whole  interior  of  that  quarter  of  the  bothy 
had  been  plastered  and  whitew^ashed;  and,  illuminated 
by  no  less  than  tioo  small  glass  windows  and  a  cheerful 
fire,  it  wore  an  air  of  cleanliness  and  comfort  far  greater 
than  might  have  been  augured  from  its  black  exterior. 
It  is  true  that  the  great  thick  couples,  as  they  are  called, 
which  form  the  frame-work,  at  once  of  walls  and  roof, 
together  with  the  cross  beams,  or  hanks,  which  secured 
them  near  their  point  of  junction  at  the  upper  ends,  were 
seen  projecting  from  the  foundation  to  the  roof  far  into 
the  apartment;  and  that  the  dark  glossy  japan  of  the 
smoke  which  had  encrusted  them,  before  the  promotion 
of  the  bothy  to  the  dignity  of  a  hunting  seat,  would  here 
and  there  insist  upon  appearing  through  even  the  densest 
coat  of  plaster.  But  the  offensive  objects  were  hung 
with  deer's  horns  and  hunting  geer;  and  taken  in  cumulo 
with  other  things  around  them,  presented  no  very  incon- 
gruous appearance.  The  floor  was  boarded:  a  fire-j^lace, 
which  did  not  smoke,  at  least  at  the  time,  was  furnished 
with  a  few  bars  of  iron,  so  placed  as  to  favour  the  ar- 
rangement and  combustion  of  the  wood  and  peats  which 
were  used  lor  fuelj  and  a  table  or  two  of  deal,  with  three 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  29 

or  four  wooden  chairs,  and  some  shelves  on  which  lay 
a  few  books,  completed  the  furniture  of  the  public  apart- 
ment of  the  bothy, 

"Well,  Harry,  welcome  to  the  bothy  of  Auchonrui; 
how  like  you  its  interior?  behold  parlour,  draAving-room, 
and  library,  all  in  one." 

"Why,  faith,  Charles,  the  sight  reheves  me  from  some 
troublesome  apprehensions;  the  look  of  that  horrid,  black, 
smoke-drying- hole  at  the  other  end,  put  me  into  a  terrible 
fright;  not  only  bleared  eyes  and  suffocation  stared  me 
in  the  face,  but  visions  of  a  more  fearful  fate;  of  falling, 
ignobly,  the  sacrifice  of  unseen  enemies,  rose  in  the  dim 
perspective:  in  plain  terras,  I  expected  to  be  bitten  to 
death — devoured  alive — dying  a  death  worse  than  that 
of  Herod — horrible!  but  this  clean  little  shop  promises  at 
least  exemption  from  so  fearful  a  catastrophe!" 

"It  does  so;  and  truly,  as  I  hope  you  will  find — but  to 
complete  the  restoration  of  your  equanimity,  let  me  act 
as  groom  of  the  chambers,  and  introduce  you  to  the  dor- 
mitories of  the  mansion." 

Opening  a  door  on  one  side  the  fire-place,  Glenval- 
lich  ushered  his  guest  into  another  apartment,  filled  up 
much  as  the  first,  except  that,  in  place  of  tables,  two 
small  bedsteads  occupied  each  a  corner,  and  camp-stools 
formed  substitutes  for  chairs.  Basins  and  ewers  stood 
on  little  shelves,  for  the  offices  of  the  toilet;  and  there 
was  even  a  luxury  of  a  small  mirror  hung  near  the  little 
window,  for  the  use  of  such  Jemmy  Jessamy's  as  might 
be  unable  to  shave  without  its  assistance. 

Small  mattrasses,  laid  upon  fresh  cut  heather,  packed 
with  the  flowery  tops  uppermost,  in  the  little  bedsteads, 
formed  a  fragrant  and  springy  couch,  and  light  warm 
blankets,  with  snow-^vhite  bed-linen,  completed  the  com- 
forts of  the  sleeping  establishment. 

"These  are  not  just  such  quarters  as  I  was  happy  to 
bid  you  welcome  to  at  Loupriach,  when  you  first  burned 
l)owder  against  grouse,  but  they  serve  my  purpose  and 
that  of  the  very  few  friends  who  have  spirit  enough  to 
embark  on  the  perilous  adventure  which  you  are  now 
boon  for.  It  is  a  far  and  a  difficult  way  to  bring  building 
materials,  so  I  just  took  possession  of  this  bothy,  which, 
as  you  see.  is  larger  than  common.  It  had  given  shelter 
to  the  shepherds  of  one  of  my  farmers,  who  quitted  the 
glen,  and  I  had  but  to  repair  and  fit  it  up  as  you  see. 
Hereafter,  perhaps,  I  may  put  something  better  in  its 
room;  at  present  it  must  serve  our  turn,  and  such  as  t 

c2 


30  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

is  I  bid  you  a  Highland  welcome  to  it — 'the  farther  ben, 
the  welcomer,'  you  know." 

"Yes;  I  have  heard— and  faith,  Charles,  I  should  be 
hard  to  please,  if  this  snug  little  room  did  not  content 
me:  and  now — O  for  a  glass  of  wine  lo  restore  exhausted 
nature!" 

^'Ala  bonne heure — here  it  is,"  said  Glenvallich,  open- 
ing a  cupboard  which  occupied  a  place  between  two  of 
the  large  couples,  and  which  seemed  full  of  crockery, 
glass  ware,  and  stores, — "for  my  part  I  seldom  use  any 
cordial  but  native  whiskey,  on  this  side  of  Loch  Durich, 
and  little  ev^en  of  that;  but  in  compassion  to  vitiated 
tastes,  who  cannot  relish  the  'mountain  dew,'  I  keep  a 
supply  of  old  sherry  and  port,  which  I  hope  you  will  not 
find  contemptible.  Beyond  that,  I  go  not;  for  claret  and 
champagne  you  must  look  to  the  shooting-box  at  Lou- 
priach,  or  to  Innerallich.  But  it  is  time  to  see  the  fores- 
ter and  hear  his  report. — Angus,  is  Duncan  Maccombich 
here?" 

"Aye,  Sir,  he's  just  come  in  from  the  hill — he's  gone 
to  put  on  his  things,  and  he'll  be  wi'  your  honour  in  a 
moment." 

"Send  him  here,  when  he's  ready,"  was  the  reply,  and 
the;  gillie  retired. 

"A  good  specimen  of  the  true  Highland  deer-stalker, 
you  will  see  in  Maccombich,"  continued  the  laird,  "one 
that  will  detect  the  horns  of  a  lying  stag,  stalk  him,  and 
shoot  him  afterwards,  with  any  man  in  Scotland;  and 
faith,  he  who  can  keep  up  with  Duncan,  when  he  has 
once  marked  his  game,  and  sets  off  to  gain  the  wind  of 
him,  may  fairly  boast  of  firm  foot,  and  sound  wind.  It 
would  do  you  good  to  see  the  fellow  crouching  with  his 
cat-like  pace  under  the  crest  of  a  hill,  or  rapidly  round- 
ing a  point  of  rock  to  gain  a  few  yards  upon  his  victim; 
he  was  born  for  a  poacher  or  game-keeper; — but  here 
comes  the  man  to  answer  for  himself" 

A  tall  Highlander,  of  an  imposing  presence,  now  en- 
tered the  room,  clad  in  the  dress  of  his  country,  which 
well  became  his  figure.  A  tartan  jacket,  in  which  green 
and  purple  predominated,  covered  his  broad  shoulders, 
its  skirts  terminating  in  narrow  tails,  a  little  below  the 
small  of  his  back.  A  full  and  handsome  phelibeg  of  the 
same  stuff  was  bound  around  his  waist,  by  a  black  leather 
belt,  and  reached  to  within  three  or  four  inches  of  his 
bare  and  sinewy  knee.  His  legs  were  clad  in  hose  check- 
ed of  red  and  green,  gartered  with  scarlet  riband: — and 
such  limbs!  for  straigntness,  form,  and  muscle,  rivalling 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  31 

those  of  any  ancient  statue;  strength  and  agility  was 
written  on  every  swelling  vein  and  working  muscle. 
His  whole  frame,  indeed,  rising  but  little  above  the  com- 
mon height,  but  firm,  compact,  and  admirably  propor- 
tioned, denoted  the  highest  degree  of  activity  and  ro- 
bustness, combined  with  powers  of  endurance  to  an 
extent  seldom  to  be  found  in  the  same  individual.  The 
head,  small  in  proportion  to  his  bulk,  was  set  loftily  upon 
his_  broad  but  falling  shoulders,  and  his  countenance, 
which  evidently  had  braved  the  Highland  storms  for 
forty  years,  confirmed  the  impression  made  upon  the 
beholder  by  his  figure,  being  stamped  with  the  marks  of 
steady  caution,  firm  decision,  and  insuperable  fortitude. 
And  although  that  intellectual  radiance,  which  cultiva- 
tion of  mind  alone  can  lend  to  the  human  countenance, 
would  have  been  sought  for  in  vain  in  the  features  of  the 
forester,  a  close  observer  could  not  have  failed  to  detect, 
in  the  quick  glance  of  his  deep  set  eye,  much  native  intel- 
ligence, acuteness,  and  sagacity. 

On  his  head  he  wore  the  small  smart  bonnet  of  the 
country,  and  his  plaid,  differing  from  the  rest  of  his  tar- 
tans, being  of  a  small  gray  and  black  check,  was  tightly 
swathed  across  his  breast  and  over  his  left  shoulder, 
leaving  the  right  arm  free  for  action.  Such  wa's  the 
forester  of  Glenochree,  and  striking  as  his  exterior  and 
more  obvious  qualifications  were  to  the  eyes  of  the  stran- 
ger, Maccombich  was  only  a  fair  sample  of  a  race  of  men, 
now  wearing  scarce  in  the  north,  but  who  once  filled  the 
ranks  of  those  fine  regiments  which  the  Highlands  sent 
forth  against  the  foes  of  Britain,  and  who,  most  of  them, 
have  sealed  their  loyalty  and  their  devotion  with  their 
blood,  on  foreign  shores.  Such  were  the  men,  sedate, 
orderly,  and  temperate  in  peace;  patient,  firm,  zealous, 
and  intrepid  in  war,  who,  with  others  of  their  country- 
men left  their  bones  to  whiten  on  the  plains  of  Maida, 
and  of  Egypt,  of  Portugal,  of  Spain,  and  of  bloody  Wa- 
terloo— but  the  race  is  fast  declining,  for  the  march  of 
improvement  is  rapidly  changing  the  circumstances  of 
the  land  which  bred  them,  arid  the  habits  which  form 
them  are  wearing  out  a-pace.  Riches  and  population, 
the  usual  indices  of  prosperity,  may  be  increasing 
throughout  the  Highlands,  but  the  hardy  race  of  moun- 
taineers, that  w^ere  scattered  over  its  rugged  surface, 
that  followed  their  chiefs  to  war,  and  fouglu  their  coun- 
try's battles,  are  gone,  and  cannot  be  replaced. 

''Well,  Duncan,  how  are  you  to-day?  what  news  from 
the  hill?"  said  the  laird,  accosting  the  forester  with  a 
cheerful  voice  and  gracious  smile. 


32  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

"A  good  day  to  your  honour,"  responded  Duncan,  in 
slow  earnest  tones,  uttered  with  a  strong  Highland  ac- 
cent, "it's  plaised  we  are  to  see  ye  at  the  bothy  a^ain: 
ther's  little  news  but  good  news  that  I  hear  o'  in  the  nill.'^ 

"AVell,  but  what  say  you  of  the  deer?  are  they  as  thick 
as  usual?" 

"Oa  aye,  they're  no'  scarce,  that's  sure;  but  the  hill's 
wide,  ye'll  no'  see  that  many  aye." 

"Well,  but  to-day,  then,  what  did  you  see?  Have  you 
lodged  any?" 

"iHum!"  replied  the  forester,  musing:  and  counting  on 
his  fingers,  as  he  slowly  proceeded  with  his  enumera- 
tion, "I  seed  two  staigs  and  four  hinds  wi'  their  calves 
the  day,  in  the  Corry  Dhu,  just  as  ye  come  ow'r  the 
shouther  o'  Scoorevialach;  and  another  staig  wi'  two 
hinds  and  a  yell  one,  on  the  briest  going  up  to  Craigt- 
ierragh.  Then  there  was  three  staigs  and  eight  or  nine 
hinds,  some  o'  them  wi'  calves,  in  the  wud  o'  Cailhfiusech, 
below  the  black  brae  thonder:  but  the  laad  says  some- 
thing started  them,  an'  they  left  the  wud,  and  crossed 
the  Truibec  burn,  and  up  thro'  the  heather  hags  to  the 
hill — they'll  be  in  Corry skiach  the  nicht  for  certain — and 
there's  more — ou.  plenty  sure  eneugh." 

"Well,  that's  all  good;  bat  have  you  lodged  any  of 
them  for  the  night,  and  in  places  where  we  may  have  a 
good  chance  of  a  shot,  in  the  morning?  Here's  my  friend, 
Mr.  Tresham,  an  Englishman,  (here  the  forester  cast  a 
keen  and  curious  eye  over  Tresham's  person,  bowing 
slightly  but  respectfully  at  the  same  time.)  we  must  try 
to  .show  him  a  little  of  our  Highland  sport." 
.  "Ou,  aye;  very  right,  very  right;  and  no  fear  o'  sport 
— we  canna  miss  o'  deer;  but  it's  best  to  mak'  shure,  and 
there's  a  hale  herd  o'  fifteen,  an'  five  staigs  among  them, 
one  o'  them  wi'  ten  branches,  lying'  in  the  black  hollow 
wast  o'  Caillifiusech;  I  seed  them  fi-om  ]\Ieal-e-Keaime- 
goo*  they  were  feeding  about  the  black  rocks  on  the 
wast  side,  and  they'll  no'  go  out  o'  that  the  nicht — if  thev 
do  it  'ill  be  into  Choru  Uiskar,  and  that'll  be  better  still. 
That's  our  best  chance,  Glenvallich,  but  it  'ill  be  a  gay 
bit  pull  for  the  gentleman,  sure  eneugh." 

"W^hy,  yes,  Maccombich,  you  have  cut  us  out  a  pretty 
tight  day's  job;  but  I  dare  say  you  have  chosen  the  best 
ground,  and  our  best  chance.  As  for  Mr.  Tresham,  he's 
a  capital  fag — eh,  Charles?  but  suppose  we  try  the  wood 
of  Fiusech  first,  for  those  stags  you  speak  olj  you  and 

*  The  dog's  head  height,  or  promontorj'. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  33 

Kenneth,  and  the  shepherd's  lad,  can  go  through  it  soft- 
ly, and  Mr.  Tresham  and  I  will  stand  at  the  two  best 
passes— by  the  black  stump,  you  know,  and  in  the  hollow 
of  the  burn  at  the  top  of  the  wood: — if  we  get  no  shot, 
then  we  can  try  the  black  hollow  you  speak  of  But 
we'll  need  to  start  early." 

"Ou,  aye,  we  cannabe  ow'r  sooninthe  hill — we  should 
leave  this  at  three  a'clock,  surely,  or  the  deer  wiJ]  be 
done  feeding,  and  it's  ill,  whiles,  to  see  a  lyin^-  deer." 

"Hear  you  that,  Tresham?  will  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning  suit  you?" 

"Whew!  what  a  tramontane  hour — better  remain  un- 
der arms  all  night,  I  think,  than  beat  the  ^enerale  so 
early:  faith,  the  affair  begins  to  assume  a  serious  aspect; 
but  I'm  under  orders,  and  ready  to  obey — three  o'clock 
be  it." 

"Well,  Maccombich,  have  all  ready  at  the  time  you 
speak  of,  we  shall  be  so  too;  take  Bran  and  Luath,  we 
may  want  them  for  a  wounded  deer.  Stay,  here's  a 
dram  for  you,  man;  you'll  be  the  better  of  it  after  your 
drenching  in  the  hill — very  wet,  I  suppose!" 

"Ou,  very  sir,  heavy  showers — one  that  lasted  an  hour 
an'  a  half,  but  it  looks  weel  the  nicht.  Deoch  slaintj, 
gentlemen,  here's  'luck  the  morn.'" 

"Gad,  that's  a  fine  fellow,"  said  Tresham,  as  the  tall 
form  of  the  forester  left  the  room.  "A  powerful,  active 
fellow,  indeed.  What  a  soldier  he  would  have  made! 
And  yet  I  have  seen  whole  companies  of  such  as  he, 
mowed  down  by  shot  like  corn  before  the  reaper!" 

"Yes,  and  you  would  have  this  poor  fellow  expended 
too,  I  hope:  better  as  he  is,  both  for  himself  and  for  me 
— he  made  agood  escape  from.the  soldiering  trade.  This 
Duncan  Maccombich,  who  was  born  on  another  part  of 
the  property,  in  the  days  ofmy  grandfather,  was,  like  most 
other  Highland  children  of  his  days,  suffered  to  run  wild 
in  idleness  and  mischief,  his  ostensible  occupation  being 
to  herd  a  cow,  while,  in  reality,  he  passed  his  time  in 
robbing  nests,  scrambling  for  hazel  nuts,  paddling  in  the 
burns  for  trout,  and  maki^ig  one  in  every  mischievou-s 
play  set  on  foot  by  the  elder  lads  of  the  village,  or  toun, 
(as  it  was  called,)  were  his  parents  lived.  These  pa- 
rents dying,  left  Duncan  destitute,  and  my  grandfather, 
out  of  charity,  took  the  boy  into  his  kitchen,  where  he  had 
the  run  of  tlie  place,  and  a  few  clothes,  and  soon  became 
the  fag  and  humble  companion  of  the  young  falks.  He 
followed  them  in  their  fishing  and  shooting  expeditions, 
carried  the  game,  helped  to  row  the  boat  and  clean  the 


34  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

ffuns,  and  took  such  share  as  pleased  himself  ofthe  sta- 
ble and  kennel  work.  But  as  Duncan  grew  up,  his  indo- 
lence, or  rather  his  dislike  to  work — for  in  matters  which 
he  liked,  his  activity  was  indefatigable — revolted  at  the 
increased  labour  which  was  required  of  him,  and  he  ac- 
cepted an  otfer  made  him  by  my  poor  uncle  Robert,  who 
was  then  raising  recruits  to  enter  his  company,  and  fol- 
low him  as  his  servant  to  Ireland.  There  did  Duncan 
continue  ibr  some  time  with  his  regiment;  but,  unfor- 
tunately for  him,  he  was  quartered  with  a  detachment 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Derry,  where  he  fell  in  with  a 
set  of  jolly  paddies,  who  were  manufacturers  of  that  fas- 
cinating liquor,  known  in  the  green  isle  by  the  appella- 
tions oi  poteen  or  innishow en, — in  our  own  kindly  high- 
lands, by  that  o^  Fei^intosh,  Glenlivat,  &c.,  according  to 
the  name  of  the  glen  or  district  which  becomes  celebrated 
lor  the  best  uishk-a-beh.*  Well  did  Duncan  know  how 
much  this  manufacture  was  encouraged  and  prosecuted 
in  his  native  glen,  and  all  those  in  its  vicinity.  And  ?d- 
though  the  servant  of  his  majesty,  bound  of  course  to 
support  the  laws  of  the  realm,  and  not  ignorant  of  the 
illegality  of  the  practice,  he  could  not  bring  himself  to 
abandon  the  society  ofthe  frank-hearted,  good-humoured 
Irish  boys— far  less  to  betray  them  to^^he  sneaking  dogs 
of  revenue  officers. 

"There  were  persons,  however,  dull  enough  not  to 
appreciate  the  purity  of  poor  Maccombich's  motives; 
who,  on  the  other  hand,  were  so  unreasonable  as  to  im- 
pure blame  to  him  for  his  conduct  in  the  business.  The 
consequences  threatened  to  be  serious;  so  my  uncle,  only 
a  little  while  before  his  death,  in  order  to  withdraw  him 
alike  from  i:>resent  punishment  and  future  temptation, 
exerted  his  influence  to  procure  the  discharge  of  his  ser- 
vant, whose  health  (it  was  averred)  required  renovation 
in  the  air  of  his  native  glen. 

"Thus  thrown  in  some  measure  on  his  owm  resources, 
Maccombich,  who  had  by  this  time  discovered  from  expe- 
rience that  a  man  must  work  to  live,  and  whose  native 
energy  had  been  aroused  by  collision  Avith  the  world, 
cast  about  him  for  an  occupation,  and  having  an  offer  of 
a  small  farm  from  my  grandfather,  who  lovecl  him  for  his 
attachment  to  his  son,  he  set  himself  down  as  a  farmer 
on  his  little  croft,  and  continued  for  several  years  to  live 
respectably,  and  in  good  repute  with  all  his  neighbours. 
The  next  period  of  Duncan's  hfe  I  am  little  acquainted 

*  Water  of  Life — vaide,whis7;ei/. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  35 

with,  for  it  is  one  on  which  he  seems  unwilling  to  dwell; 
and  I  have  never  pressed  him  to  disclose  what  seems  to 
give  him  pain.  There  was,  I  beheve,  some  unhappy  love 
affair,  the  event  of  which  unsettled  his  mind  lor  awhile, 
and  ruined  his  wordly  affairs.  His  next  attempt  was  in 
the  droving  line.  He  joined  a  person  of  some  substance, 
in  the  cattle  trade,  between  England  and  Scotland,  first 
as  a  servant,  and  aftervv'ards  as  a  partner.  This  did  well 
enough  for  a  few  years,  but  his  partner  dying,  I  believe, 
and  the  profits  of  trade  faUing  sadly  off,  Maccombich  was 
forced  to  abandon  it,  and  thought  himself  luck)]  to  es- 
cape the  consequences  of  debt,  by  a  sacrifice  of  all  he 
possessed. 

"Once  more  adrift,  poor  Duncan  seems  to  have  grown 
desperate  or  reckless.  How  he  subsisted  for  several 
years,  hardly  himself  can  tell — sometimes  it  was  by 
poaching,  sometimes  probably  by  smuggling.  That  he 
was  well  acquainted  at  one  time  with  persons  largely 
concerned  in  illicit  distillation  is  well  known;  and  that  hie 
ackiiowledged  activity  and  shrewdness,  and  the  expe- 
rience he  had  gained  in  his  Irish  campaign,  made  his  as- 
sistance a  very  desirable  acquisition  to  the  free  traders, 
is  equally  certain;  but  Maccombich  himself  denies  that  at 
this  time,  or  for  many  years  past,  he  has  had  any  thing 
to  do  with  the  business,  and  I  certainly  have  no  proof 
that  he  has  so,  although  many  will  tell  you  that  to  this 
day  he  continues  in  habits  with  his  old  associates,  and 
retains  considerable  influence  over  them. 

"It  was  while  he  led  this  bootless  and  wandering  sort 
of  life,  not  to  use  a  harsher  term,  that  chance  led  me  to 
the  knowledge  of  his  existence  and  distress.  I  had 
known  but  little  of  Alaccombich  personally,  for  my  Eng- 
lish education  kept  me  out  of  the  country  while  he  con- 
tinued a  settled  housekeeper  in  it;  but  I  was  well  ac- 
quainted with  his  character;  for  not  only  did  I  remember 
the  kindness  with  which  my  grandfather  used  often  to 
speak  of  him,  but  many  of  the^old  servants  would  talk  in 
the  highest  terms  of  the  poor  fellow's  attachment  to  my 
uncle,  and  the  distraction  of  soul  with  which  he  received 
the  news  of  his  illness  and  death.  I  knew  that  he  had  at 
least  the  highland  qualities  of  fidelity  and  feudal  attach- 
ment; and  having  at  that  time,  about  seven  years  ago, 
resolved  upon  reviving  and  preserving  the  original  deer 
forest  which  had  existed  for  many  a  year  in  this  glen,  I 
conceived  the  idea  of  giving  the  care  of  it,  and  the  situa- 
tion of  forester,  to  Maccombich.  There  was  none  that 
I  could  hear  of  better  calculated,  from  early  habits  and 


36  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

native  tastes,  for  the  trust,  and  I  hoped  that  the  confi- 
dence reposed  in  him  would  prove  a  stimulus  to  exertion 
and  good  behaviour.    I  must  say  that  he  has  not  disap- 

Eointed  me.  The  promise  which  I  exacted  that  he  would 
reak  with  his  evil  companions,  and  renounce  all  irregu- 
lar habits,  I  am  inclined  to  think  he  has  kept.  There  are 
ill  wishers  of  his  who  whisper  the  contrary,  but  1  have 
never  been  able  to  discover  any  grounds  for  the  accusa- 
tion. It  is  remarkable  that  Maccombich,  though  fond  of 
the  excitement  which  characterizes  the  life  oF  a  smug- 
gler and  poacher,  and  of  course  frequently  involved  in  the 
dissipation  incident  to  such  a  life,  w^as  never  habitually 
intemperate — he  never  was  fond  of  liquor  for  its  own 
sake,  and  separated  from  his  lawless  companions,  he  is 
really  a  sober  and  peaceable  man.  In  fine,  since  he  has 
been  my  forester,  now  seven  years,  I  have  had  no  cause 
whatever  to  repent  my  choice." 

"I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  you  say  so,"  said  Tresham,  as 
his  friend  concluded  this  sketch  of  the  forester's  history. ' 
"The  appearance  of  your  friend  Duncan  has  interested 
me;  and  I  am  really  glad  to  find  him  so  worthy  a  charac- 
ter at  bottom  as  you  make  him  out  to  be — for  as  to  his 
srnugghng  a  bit,  really  these  people  seem  brought  up 
with  an  idea  that  breaking  the  law  in  this  respect  is  nei- 
ther criminal  nor  disgraceful — so  we  must  not  judge  him 
too  severely;  but  it  does  appear  to  me  a  singular  thing 
that  this  same  crime  should  be  suffered  to  flourish,  un- 
checked, as  it  does,  in  the  moral  Highlands  of  Scotland!" — 

"Unchecked?  by  no  means;  but  certainly  unrepressed, 
and  likely  to  remain  so,  in  the  present  state  of  the  law." 

"Why,  what  do  you  allude  to — what  ails  the  law?" 

"It  Avould  be  tedious  to  explain  it;  but  while  legal  dis- 
tilleries are  fettered  with  regulations  that  set-quantity 
and  quality  at  variance,  so  that  they  produce  no  spirit 
which  whiskey-drinkers  can  bear  to  use,  and  when  duties 
and  restrictions  are  so  high  as  to  fritter  away  all  profit, 
or  force  them  to  raise  the  price  of  their  goods  to  an  ex- 
travagant rate,  what  can  be  expected  by  any  reasonable 
man,  but  that  those  who  love  good  and  cheap  spirits  will 
go  to  the  smugglers — to  the  illicit  stills,  where  it  is  made 
at  a  very  moderate  price,  and  in  high  perfection?" 

"Do  you  then  think  that  lowering  the  duties  upon  le- 
gally distilled  spirit,  would  put  an  end  to  smuggling?" 

"That  would  be  saying  too  much  perhaps.  That  such 
a  measure  would  have  a  tendency  to  do  so,  is  self-evident; 
but  to  strike  at  the  root  of  iUicit  distillation  Avill  require 
time  and  patience;  and  great  and  persevering  attention 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  37 

must  be  paid  to  the  effect  ofsuch  regulations  as  may  from 
time  to  time  be  framed  for  the  purpose." 

"What— do  you  not  think  that  by  a  reduction  of  the 
duties,  the  legal  distiller  would  be  placed  upon  a  par  with 
the  smuggler,  as  to  profit?  And  if  profit  were  done 
away,  would  not  that  destroy  smuggling?" 

"Why,  I  could  scarcely  venture  to  predict  that  it  would. 
It  is  not  profit  alone  that  induces  the  smuggler  to  en- 
gage in  the  hazards  of  his  profession.  It  is  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  secretly  in  remote  places,  at  night,  and  in 
darknessj  the  excitement  and  interest  of  a  hazardous 
employment,  conducted  with  necessary  mystery — the  hi- 
larity and  enjoyment  promoted  by  such  occupations;  and, 
above  all,  perhaps  the  triumph  of  success— of  outwitting 
severe,  and,  as  they  consider  them,  tyrannical  and  op- 
pressive laws:  which  would  restrain  them  from  the  exer- 
cise of  what  they  conceive  a  natural  and  inherent  privi- 
lege— that  of  making  what  use  they  please  of  their  own 
property.  It  is  these  things,  I  suspect,  that  invest  smug- 
gling with  a  charm  in  the  eyes  of  most  Highlanders, 
which  profit  alone  would  never  lend  it;  but  soft— in  good 
time  to  shut  my  mouth,  lo!  where  Martin  comes  with 
dinner,  such  as  it  may  be.  I  hope  you  left  all  your  epicu- 
rean fastidiousness  on  the  other  side  of  Loch  Durich;  de- 
pend upon  it  you  will  look  in  vain  for  rich  sauces  or  high 
culinary  art  here." 

"O  never  fear  me!  our  day's  exercise  has  only  left  one 
desire,  that  of  filling  the  craving  void  it  has  occasioned; 
and  it  has  provided  a  sauce  to  suit  the  daintiest  palate. 
I  am  far  more  disposed  to  practical  conclusions  than  to 
gastronomic  criticism." 

The  dinner  proved  excellent — the  whiskey  toddy  su- 
perior; and  the  two  gentlemen,  after  passing  the  even- 
ing in  conversation,  which  chiefly  turned  on  the  expect- 
ed sport  of  the  morrow,  retired  to  prepare  themselves^ 
by  sleep  for  the  early  rising  and  anticipated  fatigues  of 
the  ensuing  day. 

"And  who,  after  all,  then,  are  this  pair  of  friends,  this 
Glen vallich  and  this  Tresham,  with  whom  we  have  been 
forced  to  travel  through  the  tedious  longitude  of  a  High- 
land glen,  to  a  resting  place  which  promises  so  little  either 
of  comfort  or  amusement?" — the  reader  will  possibly  at 
this  place  exclaim,  if  he  has  not  already  done  so:  the  in- 
formation required  is  reasonable,  and  we  shall  take  the 
present  opportunity  of  supplying  it  as  concisely  as  possi- 
ble. 

VOL.  r.  D 


38  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 


CHAPTER  III. 


A  HIGHLAND  LAIRD  OF  MODERN   TIMES,  AND  HIS  GUEST. 

— Every  good  his  native  wilds  impart, 
Imprints  the  patriot  passion  on  his  heart, 
And  even  those  hills  that  round  his  mansion  rise, 
Enhance  the  bliss  his  liberal  hand  supplies. 

He  was  come  of  gentlemen, 

In  simple  state  was  he  then, 

His  father  was  a  manlie  knight, 

His  mother  was  a  lady  bright, 

He  was  gotten  and  born  in  marriage. 

And  his  eldest  brother  had  the  heritage. 

Old  Ballad. 

Charles  James  Mac  Alpine — we  make  choice  of  this 
patronymic,  or  rather  surname,  that  all  oflence  may  be 
avoided  to  the  mighty  ones  of  the  north — the  Mackin- 
toshes and  Mac  Phersons,  the  Mac  Donalds  and  the  Mac 
Donnels,  the  Mac  Leods  and  Mac  Kenzies,  the  Camp- 
bells, the  Camerons,  the  Frasers,  Grants,  Gordons,  &c. 
&c.  &c.,who  mightnot  only  be  surprised,  but  displeased, 
to  find  a  gentleman  of  such  considerable  pretensions 
springing  up  in  the  heart  of  their  countries,  and  unau- 
thorizedly  usurping  their  names,  their  property,  or  attri- 
butes: of  all  such  undue  presumption  we  shall  do  our 
best  to  beware. 

Charles  James  Mac  Alpine,  then,  was  the  descendant 
and  representative  of  an  ancient,  and  at  one  time  a  noble 
Highland  family  of  very  extensive  landed  property,  and 
great  local  influence;  but  who  having,  unfortunately  for 
themselves,  adhered  to  the  losing  side  in  the  rebellion  of 
1715,  had  forfeited  both  rank  and  property,  and  were  forc- 
ed into  a  long  and  painful  exile.  The  clemency  or  justice 
of  the  third  George  restored  to  the  unoffending  grand- 
child the  forfeited  property  of  his  forefathers;  their  title 
was  lost  for  ever. 

Robert  Mac  Alpine,  restored  by  the  royal  grace  to  fa- 
▼our  and  to  fortune,  took  possession  of  the  farnily  estates, 
to  the  great  joy  of  a  numerous,  and  at  that  time  a  re- 
spectable tenantry;  who,  with  a  devoted  attachment  tc 
their  unfortunate  landlord,  which  more  prosperous  cir- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  39 

cumslp,nces  might  not  have  ehcited,  and  which  overleap- 
ed all  leeal  restraints,  had  remitted  to  the  exile  in  secret 
much  of"  those  rents  which  the  commissioners  of  the 
crown  in  vain  attempted  to  levy  from  them.  This  disin- 
terested conduct  was  not  lost  upon  the  restored  laird. 
He  returned  to  his  Highland  estates,  with  a  resolution 
to  spend  his  life  and  his  means  among  those  who  had  so 
generously  assisted  his  necessities  when  in  distress,  to 
promote  their  welfare,  and  to  vigilate  over  the  noble  pro- 
perty thus  recoverd  to  his  family.  It  was  a  pledge  which 
ne  amply  redeemed.  Many  marks  of  favour  were  bestow- 
ed upon  the  deserving,  and  some  on  those  who  little 
merited  it.  Leases  were  renewed  or  extended  upon  fa- 
vourable terms:  new  farms  were  granted,  and  every  ju- 
dicious encouragement  held  forth  for  improvement.  '  A 
wise  and  sensible  system  of  conciliation  was  in  general 
adopted;  which,  by  augmenting  the  popularity  an^d  influ- 
ence of  the  landlord,  increased  his  power  of  doing  ^ood. 
And  he  did  good — much  good;  and  the  prosperity  of  ten- 
ants and  landlord  was  essentially  promoted  by  his  be- 
nevolent and  judicious  management. 

These  were  not  the  only  means  by  which  the  Glenval- 
lich  estates  were  increased.  A  wife  was  essential  to  the 
laird's  plans  of  comfort  and  improvement,  and  he  sought 
and  won  the  hand  of  a  neighbouring  heiress,  whose  dow- 
er added  to  his  already  extensive  domains  sundry  coter- 
minous glens,  and  a  considerable  further  extent  of  brown 
heathy  pasture  and  rocky  hills.  By  this  lady,  who  did 
not  live  long  to  contribute  to  his  happiness,  the  laird  of 
Glenvaliich  had  three  sons,  the  second  of  wliich  died  in 
bo)-hood.  Of  the  others,  James  and  Robert,  the  first  and 
eldest  born  was  father  of  the  subject  of  our  present  con- 
sideration: the  latter  was  the  uncle  to  whom  he  had  al- 
luded as  the  patron  of  the  forester  Maccombich. 

But  the  Good  Macgilliecullaoh* — such  was  the  distinc- 
tive patronymic  of  his  family,  from  the  name  of  its  re- 
puted founder,  and  such  the  adjunct  which  his  worth  and 
benevolence  had  procured  for  him  in  the  country — the 
Good  Macgilliecullach,  like  other  mortals,  was  doomed 
to  taste  the  bitters  as  well  as  the  sweets  of  this  sublunary 
state.    His  eldest  son,  a  young  man  w^ho  gave  promise 

*  CuUach,  in  Gaelic,  signifies  a  hoar.  Macgilliecullach,  "the  son 
of  the  Lad  of  the  Boar,"  doubtless  from  some  traditioi)ary  incident 
connected  with  one  of  these  animals.  Most  families  of  considera- 
tion in  the  Highlands  have  some  such  distinctive  patronymic,  and 
they  often  refer  to  some  remarkable  exploit  of  an  ancestor. 


40  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

of  being'  a  worthy  successor  to  the  virtues  of  his  father, 
had  married  a  lady  of  good  family,  and  as  amiable  in  die- 
position  as  lovely  in  her  person;  and  the  old  gentleman 
looked  forward  with  reasonable  hope  to  the  delight  of 
seeing  a  young  and  happy  family  rise  around  him,  to 
comfort  his  declining  years.  But  this  fair  hope  was  mi- 
serably blighted.  The  birth  of  a  son  had  spread  a  general 
gladness  throughout  the  wide  domain;  but  scarce  had  the 
customary  bonfires  announced  the  fortunate  event  from 
all  the  hills  around,  when  the  sounds  of  joy  were  un- 
timely hushed,  and  the  young  mother's  thrill  of  exulta- 
tion gave  way  to  deep  anxiety;  for  on  the  very  night  of 
these  rejoicings,  her  husband,  by  incautious  exposure, 
received  the  seeds  of  an  illness  from  which  he  never  re- 
covered. In  three  months  Glenvallich  followed  to  the 
grave  the  body  of  his  first-born  son,  and  the  infant  which 
she  clasped  to  her  breast  was  all  that  remained  to  the  be- 
reaved widow  of  a  husband  whom  she  had  loved  with 
the  devotion  of  a  first  and  fond  attachment. 

But  this  w^as  not  the  only  shock  which  assailed  the 
worthy  laird.  His  son  Robert,  his  youngest,  and  his  fa- 
vourite, who  had  accepted  of  a  captain's  commission  in 
a  Highland  regiment  at  that  time  raising,  ^vas  seized 
with  a  violent  fever  in  Ireland,  where  he  was  on  duty 
with  his  corps,  and  died,  before  any  of  his  friends  could 
reach  him.  This  last  blow  fell  upon  the  old  gentleman 
with  stunning  violence.  Deprived  of  all  the  objects  of 
his  love  and  pride,  the  spring  of  his  mind  and  of  his  health 
gave  way  together,  as  it  seemed,  under  its  weight.  It 
"was  remarked  by  his  friends  and  confidential  attendants, 
that  nothing  ever  afterwards  yielded  him  any  enjoyment. 
Even  the  sight  of  his  little  grandchild,  for  a  while,  ap- 
peared to  excite  more  of  pain  than  of  pleasure  in  his 
mind;  and  if  at  any  time  he  smiled,  it  was  in  such  a  sort 
as  betrayed  that  mirth  and  he  were  no  longer  tor  each 
other. 

His  widowed  daughter-in-law  continued  to  live  with 
the  old  man,  and  rousing  herself  from  the  absorbing  in- 
fluence of  her  own  grief,  endeavoured  with  the  most  per- 
severing tenderness  to  sooth  his  yet  more  overwhelming 
sorrow.  The  effort  was  of  service  both  to  herself  and  to 
that  child  to  whom  she  resolved  to  devote  her  future 
life.  It  roused  her  to  beneficial  exertion:  her  infant 
throve  even  to  a  mother's  wish,  and  the  old  laird,  won 
at  length  by  the  sweet  and  patient  devotion  of  the  widow 
of  his  son,  became  gradually  so  much  attached  to  her 
and  to  her  child,  that  he  would  never  suffer  either  to  be 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  41 

long  out  of  his  eight.  It  was  the  attachment  of  a  kind 
but  broken  heart— the  fondness  of  imbecihty — the  blow 
had  been  struck,  and  in  the  course  of  four  years  from  the 
death  of  his  last  son,  the  good  Macgilliecullach  laid  down 
a  life  which  had  long  ceased  to  have  any  charms  for  him, 
and  followed  his  three  children  to  the  grave. 

The  estate  of  Glenvallich,  the  greater  part  of  which 
had  been  entailed  by  himself,  descended  by  that  disposi- 
tion to  his  grandchild;  and  before  his  death,  able  and  effi- 
cient guardians  were  nominated  to  vigilate  over  the  in- 
terests of  the  boy  whose  minority  was  by  the  deed  of 
trust  appointed  to  terminate  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  unless 
his  guardians  should  see  good  reason  for  continuing  it 
untu  the  customary  legal  period. 

Of  these  guardians,  the  widow  whose  solemn  pledge 
to  devote  herself  to  the  care  and  education  of  her  son, 
and  whose  conduct  from  the  period  of  her  husband's 
death  had  deservedly  exalted  her  in  the  old  gentleman's 
esteem,  was  appointed  one;  and  well  did  she  redeem  her 
pledge  and  discharge  her  trust. 

The  impossibihty  of  bestowing  upon  the  boy  a  suitable 
education  in  the  Highlands  was  sufficiently  obvious. 
With  the  approbation  therefore  of  the  other  guardians, 
Mrs.  Mac  Alpine  determined  to  remove  to  England,  and 
give  the  future  laird  the  full  advantage  of  the  best  edu- 
cation which  that  country  could  afford;  still  however 
maintaining  his  Highland  associations  and  attachments 
by  occasional  visits  to  Inverallich.  The  lar^e  overplus 
of  rents  and  produce  from  the  estates,  were  m  the  mean 
time  suffered  to  accumulate  as  a  fund  to  supply  such  ex- 
penses as  might  be  required  when  the  minor  should  come 
of  a^e,  and  especially  for  the  purpose  of  improving  his 
residence,  which  was  by  no  means  com.mensurate  either 
in  convenience  or  accommodation,  with  the  property  to 
which  it  belonged. 

This  judicious  arrangement  was  more  judiciously  and 
conscientiously  fulfilled  than  is  often  the  case  in  such  cir- 
cumstances; and  the  young  Glenvallich,  at  the  prescribed 
period  of  his  majority,  entered  into  possession  of  a  clear 
estate  of  full  ten  thousand  a  year,  well  paid  rental,  to- 

f  ether  with  a  sum  of  ready  cash  which  of  itself  might  have 
een  deemed  a  handsome  fortune.  In  the  mean  tirne  he 
had  received  and  profited  by  the  valuable  opportunities  of 
instruction  which  had  been  afforded  him  both  at  Eton 
and  Oxford;  he  had  distinguished  himself  at  both  these 
places,  and  in  order  to  complete  the  course  of  study  and 
n2 


42  the'highland  smugglers. 

improvement  which  had  been  traced  out  for  him,  he  re- 
mained two  years  longer  at  the  latter  place. 

It  was  during  the  earlier  part  of  his  Oxonian  career 
that  he  became  acquainted  with  Henry  Tresham;  and 
the  friendship  which  sprung  up  between  the  two  young 
men,  in  these  their  early  days,  not  only  stood  the  test  of 
absence  and  of  change,  but  increased  in  firmness  with 
increase  of  intimacy,  until  the  period  of  which  we  treat. 

When  Glenvallich  became  of  age,  he  repaired,  in  com- 
pany with  his  mother,  to  the  family  residence  of  Inveral- 
lich  castle,  in  order  to  visit  his  estates  and  renew  his 
acquaintance  with  his  neighbours  and  tenantry.  On  this 
occasion,  with  the  advice  ot  an  able  architect,  he  made 
such  additions  and  improvements  to  the  old  castellated 
tenement,  as  the  advancing  notions  of  the  times,  on 
points  of  comfort  and  accommodations  demanded,  and 
converted  a  rambling  old  Highland  fortalice  into  a  hand- 
some and  commodious  mansion,  retaining  or  improving 
the  original  style  of  architecture  as  harmonizing  better 
than  any  other  with  the  character  of  the  scenery  around  it. 

Inverallich,  commonly  pronounced  Innerallich,  was 
most  happily  and  picturesquely  situated  upon  a  natural 
terrace  of  great  beauty,  at  the  mouth  of  a  noble  moun- 
tain glen,  which  opened  upon  a  Highland  loch  of  consi- 
derable magnitude.  Behind  it  lay  a  large  extent  of  level 
or  undulating  land  which  rose  gradually  on  the  slope  of 
the  hills  on  either  side,  and  was  plentifully  clothed  and 
studded  with  ancient  timber  trees  of  noble  size,  so  as  to 
form  a  handsome  park.  This  extensive  mass  of  wood, 
which  had  rather  been  increased  than  diminished  by  the 
late  Glenvallich,  embosomed  the  castle  on  all  sides  ex- 
cept in  front,  wiiere  a  fine  lawn  opened  out  to  the  river, 
and  uniting  with  the  natural  growth  which  clothed  the 
sides  of  the  hills  and  the  valley  itself  to  a  great  distance 
above  the  park,  imparted  to  the  whole  scene  a  richness 
of  effect,  which  probably  few  Highland  straths  can  be 
found  to  afi^ord. 

The  glen  itself,  which  gave  its  name  to  the  property, 
at  the  distance  of  a  few  miles  above  the  castle  divided 
into  two  parts,  one  of  which  retained  its  original  appella- 
tion, the  other  coming  from  a  different  district  of  moun- 
tains, and  passing  through  the  valley  with  which  the 
reader  is  already  acquainted  by  the  name  of  Glenochree, 
conveyed  its  trioute  of  water  to  the  river  which  flowed 
under  the  castle  terrace. 

In  this  handsome  mansion,  and  on  his  own  noble  pro- 
perty, did  Glenvallich,  after  travelling  for  a  time  through 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  43 

such  countries  as  the  poHtical  state  of  Europe,  at  the 
time  rendered  pervious  to  a  subject  of  Great  Britain, 
take  up  his  abode,  resolved  to  follow  the  example  of  his 
worthy  grandfather — to  live  among-  his  own  people,  to 
gain  their  confidence,  increase  their  comforts,  improve 
their  condition,  and  thus  take  the  most  generous  and  ra- 
tional method  of  increasing  the  real  value  of  his  family 
property.  The  good  natural  sense  and  feeling  of  his  ex- 
cellent mother  tended  greatly  to  promote  these  views, 
and  to  aid  their  execution.  She  had  consented,  at  the 
earnest  request  of  her  son,  to  take  the  management  of 
his  household,  until  that  charge  should  naturally  devolve 
on  some  one  worthy  to  be  entrusted  also  with  the  more 
important  trust — his  happiness;  and  she  exercised  the 
office  with  an  affectionate  zeal  and  jealous  anxiety  both 
for  his  honour  and  his  interest,  which  corresponded  with 
the  judicious  and  blameless  character  of  her  administra- 
tion as  his  guardian.  So  delightful,  indeed,  did  her  ar- 
rangements for  his  comfort  and  amusement  render  his 
home,  that  it  appeared  as  if  he  felt  no  further  want;  and 
some  of  the  busy  gossips  aroond  would  remark,  that 
"the  old  lady  of  GlenvalHch  found  the  nest  too  warm  to 
seek  to  quit  it.  and  that  the  young  laird  would  find."  But 
no  such  selfish  motive  found  place  in  the  bosom  of  the 
object  of  their  ill-natured  sneers.  Her  son's  happiness 
and  interest  were  all  she  had  in  view;  and  she  would 
have  rejoiced  to  be  called  upon  to  surrender  the  keeping 
ofboth  into  hands  worthy  of  the  trust,  though  at  the  ex- 
pense of  abandoning  along  with  them,  the  almost  exclu- 
sive place  she  had  preserved  in  his  affections.  For  more 
than  five  years,  however,  had  that  son  made  Inverallich 
his  constant  residence,  and  no  chans:e,  of  a  nature  calcu- 
lated to  interfere  with  either  his  or  her  arrangements, 
had  occurred,  or  seemed  likely  so  to  do. 

For  the  greater  part  of  the  year  the  young  man  em- 
ployed himself  in  active  superintendence  of  his  estates, 
or  in  the  rural  sports  of  which  he  was  naturally  fond. 
During  the  summer  and  autumn,  a  succession  of  com- 
3any  from  various  quarters  enlivened  his  abode;  the  ear- 
ier  part  of  winter  had  its  duties  and  its  pleasures  among 
lis  tenantry  and  neighbours;  and  in  spring  he  frequently 
repaired  to  London  to  rub  off  the  rust  contracted  in  a 
country  residence,  to  revive  his  acquaintance  with  the 
world,  and  to  keep  pace,  as  far  as  a  man  sufficiently  oc- 
cupied at  home  may  do,  with  the  current  of  events  in  the 
political,  the  literary  and  the  fashionable  circles  of  so- 
ciety.   Such  was  the  hte  of  the  laird  of  Glenvallich  at 


44  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

the  time  when  we  have  thought  fit  to  present  him  to  the 
notice  of  our  readers:  his  friend  need  not  detain  us  so 
lone. 

Henry  Basset  Tresham  was  the  second  son  of  Sir 
Richard  Tresham,  Baronet,  a  gentleman  of  good  old 
family,  in  possession  of  an  estate  of  eight  thousand 

pounds  a   year  in  shire;    of  sons  and  daughters 

amounting  to  seven  in  number,  only  three  of  the  former, 
and  one  of  the  latter  at  this  time  remained  alive.  The 
eldest  son,  a  young  man  of  very  amiable  disposition  and 
high  talents,  but  of  a  i'eeble  constitution,  had  in  conse- 
quence of  ill  health  been  forced  to  fly  from  the  damp  un- 
certain cHmate  of  Britain,  to  the  milder  air  of  a  more 
southern  latitude,  and,  somewhat  imprudently,  sought 
rather  to  gratify  his  taste  for  information,  and  thirst  of 
knowledge,  by  travelling  through  the  then  less  well- 
known  regions  of  Greece  and  Asia  Minor,  than  to  reno- 
vate his  exhausted  and  weakly  frame  by  a  quiet  residence 
in  a  genial  climate. 

Henry,  the  second  son,  and  the  subject  of  our  present 
consideration,  was  a  youth  of  talents  and  observation, 
great  animal  spirits,  and  dispositions  not  less  amiable 
than  those  of  his  elder  brother.  Though  too  volatile  to 
be  systematically  studious,  his  quick  genius  and  excel- 
lent capacity  enabled  him  to  gain  a  distinguished  rank 
among  his  companions,  both  at  school  and  college,  with 
infinitely  less  labour  than  many  of  them  would  have  ex- 
pended in  maintaining  a  very  moderate  character  as  a 
scholar.  So  flattering,  indeed,  were  the  accounts  of  his 
progress  which  reached  his  father,  that  they  decided  the 
worthy  baronet's  mind,  regarding  a  measure  which  he 
had  long  contemplated  as  a  means  of  providing  for  one 
of  his  sons. 

The  family  was  not  only  possessed  of  considerable 
church  patronage  itself  but,  through  its  various  branch- 
es and  connexions,  could  command  high  interest  in  the 
way  of  clerical  preferment;  so  that  Sir  Richard,  who 
had  long  resolved  that  one  of  his  sons  should  study  for 
orders,  now  resolved  that  Henry,  already  distinguished 
for  literary  attainments,  should  be  that  son. 

But,  alas!  how  often  are  our  best  devised  projects 
frustrated! — how  often  does  the  perversity  or  heedless- 
ness of  youth  overthrow  the  calculations,  and  thwart 
the  wisest  schemes  of  age!  Far  from  being  gratified  at 
the  prospect  of  luxurious  affluence  and  undisturbed  re- 
pose thus  opened  to  his  view,  Henry  Tresham's  active 
mind  revolted  at  the  idea  of  a  career  so  placid,  so  unruf- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  45 

fled,  so  anmarked.  as  he  conceived  it  to  be,  with  incident 
and  interest,  as  that  ot^  a  beneficed  clergyman  of  the 
established  church.  "What!"  exclaimed  he,  with  chti  ks 
kindling  indignantly,  as  the  plan  was  first  propounded  to 
him,  "/waste  my  days  in  a  repose  so  inglorious? — /con- 
sent to  turn  my  brains  into  prosy  sermons  and  dull  homi- 
lies, or  expose  myself,  in  a  black  gown  and  white  band, 
to  tickle  the  ears  of  a  set  of  country  clowns?  Sooner 
would  I  burn  every  book  1  have,  and  follow  the  first  re- 
cruiting drum  and  nfe  that  passes  by!" 

Furiously  wroth  was  the  worthy  baronet  when  his 
son's  speech  and  behaviour  on  this  occasion  were  (as 
care  was  taken  they  should  be)  duly  reported  to  him.  It 
would  have  been  hard  to  say  whether  anger  or  disap- 
pointment predominated^  but  he  swore,  that  unless  Har- 
ry should  own,  with  the  humblest  contrition,  his  un- 
seemly folly,  and  should  implicitly  subscribe  to  all  such 
arrangements  as  he,  his  sire,  might  condescend  to  dic- 
tate, he  might  follow  his  own  course,  and  make  or  mar 
his  own  fortune,  at  his  own  pleasure;  for,  that  one  shil- 
ling of  his  money  should  never  go  to  foster  arrogance 
and  rebellion.  "What!  reject  a  provision  which  many 
a  peer  of  the  realm,  with  ten  times  his  fortune,  vrould 
catch  at  for  a  younger  son!  No — never  would  he  speak 
to— never  see  the  culprit  a^ain,  until,  with  humble  peni- 
tence, he  came  to  ask  forgiveness  for  his  folly  and  pre- 
sumption." 

Such  language  was  but  indifferently  calculated  to  ef- 
fect the  object  it  aimed  at— if  other  aim  it  had  than  to 
v^ent  the  speaker's  wrath.  The  spirit  of  Henry  was 
roused;  mildness  might  at  least  have  made  him  pause  in 
the  course  of  disobedience;  but  "so  despotic  and  tyranni- 
cal a  denunciation,"  as  he  termed  it,  only  rendered  him 
obstinate  in  his  fault.  He  proudly  accepted  the  alterna- 
tive; he  would  be  the  fashioner  of  his  own  fate  and  for- 
tune, without  being  beholden  even  to  a  father,  who  could 
seek  so  to  browbeat  his  son  into  a  profession  he  detested. 

Ail  hopes  of  conciliation,  had  any  ever  existed,  were 
now,  for  the  time  at  least,  at  an  end;  and,  for  a  while, 
matters  went  on  disas-reeably  enough  between  the  of- 
fending party  and  hislather.  But  Henry's  heart  was 
too  good,  and  his  dispositions  far  too  amiable,  to  persist 
lono-  in  rebellion.  Fain  would  he  have  cast  himself  at 
hislather's  feet,  and  said,  "Father,  I  have  sinned;"  but 
pride,  that  ally  of  the  wicked  one  in  the  heart  of  man, 
forbade  the  humiliation,  and  whispered.  "How  do  I 
know  but  my  penitence  may  be  rejected?"    The  father 


46  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

too,  on  his  side,  be^an  to  doubt  whether  he  had  gone  the 
wisest  way  to  work  for  compassing  his  purpose;  and 
without  making  any  actual  concession,  he  permitted  a 
friend  of  his,  General  Mashan,  to  see  the  youth  and  en- 
deavour to  bring  him  to  reason,  and  to  report  the  state 
of  mind  in  which  he  should  be  found. 

The  general  was  a  sensible  and  judicious  man,  ac- 
quainted with  the  world,  and  accustomed  to  the  studj^ 
of  the  human  character.  That  of  Henry  was  not  difh- 
cqU  to  read,  for  it  stood  open  and  undisguised  before 
him.  His  visit  was  well-timed  too:  he  found  the  youth 
smarting  keenly  under  the  painful  and  unwonted  feeling 
of  parental  estrangement,  and  wiUing  to  do  any  thing  to 
conciliate — except  to  obey  the  obnoxious  command.  Nor 
could  the  general  discover  the  necessity  or  good  sense 
of  enforcing  it;  on  the  contrary,  the  whole  tenor  of  his 
conversation  with  Henry,  convinced  him  that  it  would 
be  the  heisrht,  not  only  of  cruelty  but  of  imprudence,  to 
do  so.  "You  may  make  a  bad  parson  of  your  son  if  you 
like,"  said  he  to  his  friend  the  baronet,  when  he  reported 
to  him  the  result  of  his  embassy;  "but  you  will  spoil  a 
capital  soldier; — take  my  word  for  it,  black  will  never  sit 
well  on  that  young  man.  His  head  is  full  of  guns,  and 
drums,  and  trumpets  already,  and  he's  all  agog  for  mili- 
tary adventure:  and  though  he  is  meek  and  low  enough 
just  now,  poor  boy,  and  pants  to  be  taken  into  favour 
again,  hang  me,  if  I  should  like  to  answer  for  the  conse- 
quences oi  persisting  in  your  intentions!" 

Sir  Richard,  when  not  in  a  passion,  was  by  no  means 
an  unreasonable  man.  Besides  he  remembered  that  he 
had  still  another  son,  a  quiet,  sedate  boy,  by  far  more 
likely  to  suit  the  peaceful  profession  of  a  minister  of  the 
gospel,  than  his  more  spirited  and  mercurial  brother: 
so  after  a  due  display  of  grave  displeasure,  in  order  to 
avoid  the  appearance  of  a  too  easy  acquiescence,  the 
penitent  Henry  was  informed,  that  his  assumption  of 
gown  and  band  would  be  dispensed  with,  and  that  after 
completing  such  a  course  of  studies  as  were  calculated 
to  fit  him  for  the  society  of  ^entlernen  in  the  world,  a  sash 
and  gorget  might  be  substituted  in  their  room. 

Stimulated  by  a  prospect  congenial  to  his  wishes,  Hen- 
ry Tresham,  certainly  did  not  relax  in  his  efforts;  and 
his  proficiency  in  his  studies  was  in  due  time  rewarded 
by  emancipation  from  all  collegiate  restraints,  and  the 
commission  which  had  so  long  been  the  object  of  his  am- 
bition;— the  ready  means,  as  he  fondly  hoped,  of  securing 
both  fame  and  fortune  to  himself. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  47 

Henry  was  now  an  officer,  and  his  own  master;  but 
his  constitutional  high  spirits  frequently  were  at  war 
with,  and  prevailed  over,  his  better  feelings  as  well  as 
his  sounder  judgment.  Certain  youthful  excesses, 
whjph  led  to  pecuniary  difficulties,  once  more  excited  the 
displeasure  of  his  father,  and  it  was  in  order  to  withdraw 
his  son  from  such  tem/)tations,  as  well  as  to  afford  him 
opportunities  for  gaining  professional  and  wordly  expe- 
rience, that  Sir  Richard,  by  the  advice  and  with  the  aid 
of  his  friend  the  general,  procured  the  young  man's  ex- 
change into  a  regiment  embarking  for  the  Peninsula. 
Thither  he  accordingly  went,  under  the  surveillance  of 
a  friend  of  that  gentfem.an's,  to  gather  wisdom  and  dis- 
cretion, and  laurels,  if  they  were  to  be  found,  in  the  field 
of  actual  service. 

We  have  stated  that  Sir  Richard  Tresham  possessed 
a  good  estate;  but  he  lived  in  handsome  style,  so  that  of 
his  eight  thousand  a  year,  little  was  left  to  accumulate 
for  young  children.  It  was  a  maxim  of  his,  that  the 
eldest  son  of  an  old  family  should  always  inherit  the  fa- 
mily estate,  leaving  the  younger  brandies,  if  necessary, 
to  make  their  way  through  life  in  their  respective  profes- 
sions, aided  in  their  own  exertions  only  by  the  interest 
of  their  connexions.  He  was  anxious,  too,  that  his  son 
should  succeed,  to  the  property  unencumbered:  thus. 
when  he  died,  the  younger  branches  of  his  famil;^  would 
have  found  themselves  but  slenderly  provided  lor,  had 
their  provision  depended  entirely  upon  their  father.  For- 
tunately for  them,  this  was  not  the  case. 

An  uncle  of  Lady  Tresham's,  a  Mr.  Basset,  whose 
name  Henry  bore  in  addition  to  his  own,  and  who  had 
also  stood  godfather  to  the  youngest  girl  Maria,  left  by 
will  a  sum  to  each  of  the  younger  children  of  his  niece, 
which,  together  with  the  pittance  found  on  the  death  of 
their  father  to  accrue  to  each,  amounted  to  about  twelve 
thousand  pounds  a-piece.  This  and  his  commission— he 
was  at  this  time  a  captain— formed  the  whole  of  Tres- 
ham's  fortune;  for  although  thoroughly  reconciled  to  his 
father  before  the  death  of  the  latter,  the  old  gentleman 
had  omitted  to  give  any  substantial  proof  of  the  tact  b)'  a 
further  remembrance  of  the  young  man  in  his  will.  His 
brother  Richard,  the  clergyman,  was  amply  provided  for; 
and  Sir  Thomas,  the  young  baronet,  who  was  still 
abroad  at  the  time  of  his  father's  decease,  when  made 
aware  of  that  gentleman's  testamentary  dispositions, 
immediately  increased  by  deed  of  gift,  in  the  hands  of 
trustees,  the  portion  of  his  (now  only  remaining)  sister 


48  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

to  twenty  thousand  pounds;  at  the  same  time,  entreating 
his  brother  Henry,  whenever  money  mi^ht  be  needed  for 
promoting  his  professional  views,  to  use  the  credit  which 
he  had  lodged  for  him  with  his  bankers,  instead  of  in- 
fringing upon  his  own  small  funds. 
In  the  absence  of  the  youn^  baronet  from  his  native 

country,  the  lamily  seat  of  Mitchley,  in shire,  was 

occupied  by  his  mother  and  sister,  to  whom  Tresham,  on 
his  return  from  the  Continent,  had,  as  we  have  already 
remarked,  paid  a  visit  of  some  length  before  accepting 
the  invitation  of  his  Highland  friend. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


DEER  STALKING. 

Sweet,  sweet  upon  the  mountain 

Sinks  the  setting  siui; 
The  coursers  fleet  scarce  drag  their  feet— 

The  weary  chase  is  done. 
Where's  the  antler'd  king,  that  late 
R.anged  the  wood  in  fearless  state — 

Alas!  alas!  upon  the  grass, 
Which  his  best  life's  blood  dyes, 
The  bleeding  monarch  lies! 

The  first  light  of  morning  had  just  peeped  through  the 
little  window  of  the  sleeping  apartment  in  the  bothy  of 
Auchonrui,  when  Tresham  was  roused  from  a  sound 
sleep  by  the  voice  of  his  host.  "What,  Henry,  man, 
hey!  Up!  up!  it  is  almost  three.  There's  Maccombicii 
has  been  stalking  about,  like  the  Bodach  Glass  in  the 
gloaming,  for  this  half  hour  past;  and  I  smell  the  chops 
and  broiled  chickens  already.  Up,  man!  we  have  not 
a  moment  to  lose." 

"Yauh— au — ah!— God  bless  me!  why,  what  already? 
I  don't  think  I'm  an  hour  yet  in  bed: — but  never  mind,  here 
goes."  And  after  a  yawn  and  a  stretch  or  two,  he  sprung 
out  of  bed,  and  soon  joined  his  friend  in  the  next  room, 
where  apretty  solid  breakfast  smoked  upon  the  table  and 
invited  their  attack. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  49 

''Upon  mv  word,  all  very  comfortable  and  inviting,  in- 
deed," said  I'resham,  as  he  commenced  a  serious  assault 
upon  the  viands.  ''But  what  the  deuce!  Charles,  my 
good  fellow,  what  masquerading  iancy  is  this?  Do  you 
shoot  deer  in  uniform?  What  a  rum  figure  you  have 
made  of  yourself" 

This  was  said  on  his  observing",  for  the  first  time,  that 
his  friend  had  changed  his  dress  of  the  day  before,  and 
now  wore  a  short  jaxket  and  loose  trousers  of  dark  gray 
tartan,  with  a  gray  cap  of  the  same  material  upon  his 
head. 

"Why,  not  exactly  so,"  replied  Glenvallich;  '"but  I 
wear  this  dress  because  it  is  the  lightest,  the  most  con- 
venient, and  the  least  distinguishable  of  all  others  in  the 
hill.  And,  by-the-bve,  my  friend,  1  must  tell  you  that 
your  costume  is  far  from  being  the  best  calculated  either 
for  comfort  or  concealment." 

•'Why,  what  ails  it?"' 

"Faith!  you  will  soon  find  that  if  you  persist  in  going  so 
clad;  that  knowing  velveteen  jacket  is  tolerably  well  as 
to  colour— too  dark  though;  but,  heavens,  man!  its  weight 
would  knock  you  up  in  a  couple  of  hours.  Your  trousers 
are  too  white  by  half;  and  as  for  that  smart  blue  forag- 
ing cap,  with  its  gay  golden  band,  ii^  you  desire  sport, 
by  all  means  discard  it.  Why,  man,  a  Seer  with  half  an 
eye  would  catch  the  glitter  of  it  at  two  miles  distance, 
the  moment  it  rose  above  a  heather  hag." 

"O  as  to  the  velveteen,"  replied  Treshara.  "it  is  an 
old  friend — I'm  used  to  it — no  fear  of  me.  But  I  can 
change  the  trousers  for  a  pair  of  grays;  and  the  cap  I 
abanHon  to  your  worship,  providing  you  can  supply  me 
with  any  thing  better." 

"Well,  we  shall  see;  for  Duncan  would  to  a  certainty 
protest  against  that.    But  take  your  breakfast  just  now." 

The  attack  now  became  warm:  excellent  mutton  chops, 
broiled  chickens,  eggs,  mutton,  ham,  &c.  &c.,  together 
with  tea,  coffee,  rich  cream,  and  the  best  butter  possible, 
composed  a  breakfast  Avhich  did  not  disgrace  the  name 
which  the  Highlands  have  deservedly  acquired  for  that 
meal,  and  after  making  due  provision  for  a  solid  luncheon, 
in  the  shape  of  sandwiches,  biscuits,  and  the  like,  the 
whiskey  flasks  being  replenished,  and  the  shooting  tackle 
overhauled,  a  summons  was  issued  for  the  attendance  of 
Duncan  Maccombich. 

The  forester  soon  made  his  appearance;  but  he  was  no 
longer  clad  in  the  smart  tartans  of  the  night  before.  He 
now  wore  a  rough  jacket  of  gray  frieze,  with  a  waist- 

VOL.  I.  E 


50  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

coat  of  the  same,  a  good  deal  the  worse  for  wear;  a  din- 
gy-coloured kilt,  formed  of  a  single  fold  of  checked  tar- 
tan wrapped  simply  round  his  waist,  and  reaching  barely 
to  within  five  inches  of  his  knee,  supplied  the  handsome 
well-pleated  phelibeg;  short  gray  stockings  were  garter- 
ed far  below  the  knee,  and  his  head  was  covered  with  a 
cap  of  gray  badger  skin.  His  whole  person,  tall  and  im- 
posing in  its  character,  and  clad  in  its  universal  gray, 
might  very  well  have  represented  in  the  dim  twilight  the 
shadowy  spirit,  to  which  Glenvallich  had  not  unaptly 
likened  it. 

"Well,  Duncan,"  began  the  laird,  "how  looks  the  morn- 
ing, and  how's  the  wind?" 

"Ou,  the  morning's  fine,  sir;  and  the  wind's  richt  doon 
the  glen." 

"We  must  begin  at  the  low^er  end  of  Fiusech,  then,  I 
suppose,  eh?  and  tend  westward?" 

"Aye,  aye, — just,  just.  But  Lord!  what's  you!"  And 
although  the  objects  which  had  caught  his  eye  were  full 
three  miles  distant,  the  forester,  with  the  habitual  cau- 
tion of  a  deer  stalker,  stopped  short  mechanically,  and 
drawing  his  person  within  the  door-way  at  which  he  had 
been  standing,  drew  forth  his  glass  and  pointed  it  at  the 
opposite  hill.  Long  and  keenly  did  he  gaze  through  the 
instrument,  "Aye,  aye,"  said  he,  at  length,  "there  they 
go — a  fine  staig  he  is,  and  fowr  hindes  wi'  their  calves, 
and  two  yell  ones,  right  up  yon  green  face." 

"Hah!  faith  you've  got  good  eyes,  Maccombich,"  said 
Glenvallich," ' 'I  can  see  nothing  yet." 

"Ou,  I  just  got  a  glisk  o'  their  broun  hides,  crossing 
yon  green  spotl  I  first  thought  it  was  cattle,  but  they're 
(leer — they're  deer." 

"And  where  may  they  be  from,  think  you? — from  Fiu- 
sech?" 

Ou  no,  sir.  not  at  all;  they'll  be  from  the  east — from 
Torrebuy.  I'm  thinking;  I'se  warrant  they'll  be  in  Corry 
Dhu  afore  long.  But  we  shud  nalose  time,  sir — we  shud 
na  lose  time,"  said  he,  fidgetting  on  his  feet;  "ifye're 
ready,  we'se  be  off." 

"All  ready,  Maccombich.  Tresham,  you  should  be  a 
rifle  shot — here's  a  tool  that  won't  fail  you,  if  you  mea- 
sure your  distance  well,  use  the  proper  sights,  and  hold 
straight.  I've  seen  four  balls  running  put  in  the  space 
of  half  a  card,  at  a  hundred  and  fifty  paces,  with  this 
very  piece.  But  won't  you  take  this  light  jacket  instead 
of  your  own  heavy  affair?'* 

"O,  no  need," 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  51 

"Well  one  of  the  gillies  shall  take  it  for  you;  you  may 
be  thankful  for  it  yet.    AUonsP'' 

Accompanied  by  their  assistants  in  the  chace,  the 
sportsmen  now  set  out.  These  consisted,  besides  the 
forester  of  Kenneth,  an  under-keeper,  a  stout,  short,  ac- 
tive, good-humoured  fellow,  to  whom  a  day  after,  the 
deer  was  meat  and  drink  for  a  fortnight;  the  shepherd's 
boy,  and  a  tall,  long,  red-shanked,  barefooted  gillie,  with 
nothing  on  his  head  but  his  own  unkem't  matted  locks, 
and  little  to  cover  his  nakedness  save  a  very  tattered  kilt 
and  a  sort  of  non-descript  half-shirt,  half-jacket  kind  of 
habiliment,  formed  of  sundry  shreds  and  patches,  retain- 
ed about  his  gaunt  figure  by  some  secret  sympathy  or  tie, 
which  the  eye  could  not  detect.  The  last  pair  of  wor- 
thies held  each  in  leash  a  dog,  which  seemed  by  far  the 
nobler  animal  of  the  two;  andTresham  recognized  in 
them,  a  brace  of  the  gallant  deer-hounds  which  had  been 
the  foremost  to  welcome  them  on  the  preceding  evening. 
It  is  a  race  now  becoming  rare  in  Scotland,  but  which, 
were  it  only  for  the  grana  appearance  of  the  animal  and 
its  noble  nature,  as  well  as  for  ancient  recollections,  de- 
serves well  to  be  maintained  by  such  as  have  the  power 
to  do  so.  Deep  in  the  chest,  arched  in  the  back,  with 
loins  of  iron,  sharp  muzzle;  and  eyes  of  fire,  what  can 
compare  with  the  ancient  Highland  deer-hound?  Who 
but  the  minstrel  of  the  north  can  fitly  describe  his  beauty 
and  his  prowess;  who  can  paint  him  but  Landseer! 

"What  a  lovely  morning!  what  a  delicious  air!  what  a 
splendid  scene  altogether!  exclaimed  Tresham,  as  issu- 
ing finally  from  the  bothy,  they  immerged  into  the  open 
?.ir.  The  scene  indeed  wa??  splpndid — the  sky  of  a  pure 
azureVaeepening  as  it  reached  the  zenith  and  fleeked. 
here  and  there  with  light  fleecy  clouds  of  a  pale  orange 
hue,  was  brightly  illuminated  towards  the  eastern  hori- 
zon by  the  beams  of  the  rising  sun;  while  the  whole  of 
the  valley  and  its  surrounding  mountains  slept  in  perfect 
shadow  and  tranquillity,  their  gray  outline  sharply  yet 
softly  defined  against  the  pure  ether.  On  the  lofty  peak 
of  Scoore-vialach  alone  there  hung  a  wreath  of  mist, 
like  a  crown  of  glory,  tinged  as  was  the  peak  itself  with 
the  first  red  sunbeam  of  morning.  Gray  clouds  rested 
in  fantastic  shapes  on  many  a  shoulder  of  the  mountain, 
filling  up  and  revealing  the  hollows  which  would  else 
have  remained  undetected  on  their  rugged  breasts.  Light 
filmy  vapours  exhaling  from  the  stream  and  morasses, 
floated  here  and  there  over  the  valley.  The  dew  lay 
heavy  upon  bush  and  herb,  and  the  birch-trees  around 


UBRARf 
PMlVERSnYnP 


53  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

the  bothy  shed  from  their  leaves  and  buds  a  balmy  fra- 
grance which  perfumed  the  whole  atmosphere. 

"This  is  truly  exhilarating-,"  continued  Treshara;  "1 
feel,  at  this  moment,  just  as  if  neither  strength  nor  spi- 
rits could  ever  fail  me.  Often  have  1  thus  felt  the  re- 
viving influence  of  morning;  often,  after  a  hot  and  rest- 
less night  spent  in  a  comfortless  bivouac,  or  on  a  weary 
anxious  watch,  have  I  hailed  the  approach  of  dawn,  and 
blessed  its  dewy  freshness,  even  when  I  knew  that  the 
returning  light  might  be  but  the  harbinger  of  carnage 
and  death; — but  the  unmingled  delight  of  such  a  morning 
as  this,  in  such  a  scene,  is  only  to  be  tasted  in  the  tran- 
quil security  of  our  own  happy  land." 

"Aye,  Hal,  and  few  can  well  appreciate  the  value  of 
that  security  save  those  who  have  known  the  want  of 
it. — But  move  w^e  on." 

They  crossed  the  valley,  and  taking  a  sli^^ht  track, 
made  probably  by  the  cattle,  among  a  number  oTheathery 
kncrils,  they  followed  it  for  a  couple  of  miles  up  the  glen, 
until  the  ragged  wood  which  crept  irregularly  up  the 
m.ountain,  became  more  dense  and  continuous.  Here, 
near  the  top  of  a  little  height,  Glenvallich  halted.— 
"This,"  said  he,  "is  one  of  our  reconnoitering  points;  sit 
down  until  we  examine  the  forest,  and  opposite  hill." 

Cautiously  creeping  up  the  little  hillock  until  their  eyes 
could  just  peer  above  the  topmost  heather,  Glenvallich 
and  the  ibrester,  throwing  themselves  upon  their  faces, 
scrutinized  with  their  glasses  the  brown  expanse  before 
them:  nor  was  it  until  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
had  elapsed  in  the  inquiry,  that  they  arose  from  their 
recumbent  position.  "Nothing  is  stirring,  or  in  sight, 
so  far  as  we  can  make  out,"  said  Glenvallich — let  ue 
move  forward.  Remember,  Tresham,  we  shoot  at  no- 
thing but  stags.  The  hinds,  with  calves  at  their  foot, 
are  not  in  condition;  and  the  yell  hinds,  as  they  are  called 
— those,  that  is,  which  have  either  had  no  calves  or  have 
lost  them,  your  eye  is  not  practised  enough  to  distinguish 
from  the  others.  You  may  see  plenty  of  roe-deer  too, 
here,  for  the  wood  is  full  of  them;  but  don't  shoot  at  them, 
for  you  might  disturb  and  lose  a  stag  worth  fifty  roe, 
who  might  be  lying  within  a  j'ew^  yards  of  us." 

"What!  let  a  roebuck  pass? — laith,  that  will  require 
some  forbearance  too." 

"01  if  you  are  so  hot,  then,  and  should  see  a  roebuck, 
after  the  deer  have  all  probably  passed,  fire  if  you  like. 
You  will  know  the  buck  by  his  horns — fire  at  nothing 
which  has  not  horns— that's  your  best  rule." 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  53 

"Well,  I'll  try  to  remember  vour  orders. — Any  thing 
else?" 

"Yes,  one  thing — black-cock  abound  here;  you  may 
sometimes  see  them  flying  about  in  dozens;  but  I  need 
scarce  remind  you  to  let  them  alone.  In  the  first  place, 
this  is  not  the  season  for  shooting  them;  and  then,  always 
remember  the  nobler  game  we  have  in  view — so  now 
you  know  all  you  have  to  attend  to.  Let  us  move  on, 
and  in  silence,  for  we  are  now  on  our  ground,  and  deer 
may  be  within  ten  yards  of  us  at  any  time." 

The  forester  then  taking  the  lead,  proceeded,  indicat- 
ing by  signs,  when  required,  the  direction  to  be  taken. 
Ascending  one  height,  and  winding  round  another,  the 
sportsmen  soon  found  themselves  entering  the  wood, 
and  gradually  gaining  an  elevation  which  enabled  them 
to  overlook  the  valley  below.  Alder  and  birch-trees, 
with  here  and  there  an  old  fir,  studded  the  knolls;  and 
ere  long  they  plunged  into  a  thicket  of  such  trees,  tan- 
gled with  underwood  of  fern  and  thorns,  through  which, 
as  they  made  their  way  with  difficulty,  the  dew-drops 
fell  in  heavy  showers  upon  them  from  the  branches. 
This  was  the  true  commencement  of  their  ascent;  and 
an  arduous  one  did  the  young  Englishman  find  it  to  be. 

The  steep  mountain  side,  cleft  as  it  was  into  number- 
less irregularities,  was  every  where  thickly  covered 
with  wood  of  that  unequal  growth  which  characterizes 
natural  forests.  Clumps  of  birch-trees,  with  guar  Jed  and 
twisted  stems  like  aged  oak  stumps,  arose  from  a  thicket 
of  thorns  and  fern,  which  covered  a  heap  of  gray  stones, 
only  less  ancient  than  the  hills  of  which  they  were  the 
ruins;  and  single  trees  of  the  same  species,  but  of  great  an- 
tiquity, might  be  seen  scattered  here  and  there  amongst 
a  grove  of  pines  of  all  ages  and  sizes,  from  the  three 
years  seedhng  to  the  veteran  of  centuries.  A  space  more 
open  would  not  unfrequently  occur,  occupied  by  some 
enormous  fir-tree,  which  Tejoicing  in  the  free  air  and 
room,  would  throw  its  vast  arms  abroad,  as  in  a  domain 
over  which  it  held  a  rightful  supremacy. 

Hundreds  of  such  noble  trees  lay  strewed  upon  the 
earth,  encumbering  its  surface  with  their  remains;  or, 
like  sturdy  patriots,  preserving  in  death  and  in  decay  the 
same  unbending  aspect  which,  when  alive,  they  had 
maintained,  still  reared  aloft  their  bleached  stems  and 
naked  branches  hke  skeletons  of  giants.  Heather,  the 
growth  of  ages,  ferns  of  enormous  height,  blackberry, 
cranberry  and  crowberry  bushes,  with  other  luxuriant 
herbage,  formed  an  underwood  to  this  primaeval  forest, 
e2 


54  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

SO  thick,  SO  high  and  closely  matted,  that  no  progress 
could  be  made  amon^  it  without  the  most  vigorous  exer- 
tions. The  surface  ofthe  ground,  too,  every  where  steep 
and  shelviner,  was  moreover  furrowed  into  deep  holes 
and  chasms  by  the  action  of  petty  streams  which  made 
their  way  beneath  this  tangled  carpet  in  the  mossy  soil. 
If  to  these  impediments  be  added  the  multitude  of  sharp 
rockv  fragments  which  studded  the  mountain  side,  over- 
grown by  the  rank  vegetation,  and  thus  concealed  from 
the  eye  until  detected  by  the  stumbling,  and  perhaps 
wounded  foot,— some  notion  may  be  formed  of  the  toil 
and  painfulness  of  an  ascent  on  such  ground  to  an  un- 
practised traveller. 

Through  this  woody  wilderness,  however,  did  Duncan 
Maccombich  pursue  his  course,  striding  along  without 
check  or  halt,  as  in  a  familiar  element:  his  sinewy  limbs 
brushed  aside  the  thick  branches,  or  divided  the  tangled 
herbaere,  as  if  it  had  been  the  gossamer  that  floated 
around  him,  heavy  with  the  morning  dew, — and  bore 
him  from  hag  to  hag,  and  rock  to  rock,  with  the  elastic 
lightness  of  the  animal  which  he  loved  to  pursue.  His 
master  followed  in  the  same  track  with  an  alertness  and 
ease,  which  youth  and  practice,  combined  with  native 
strength,  could  alone  have  supplied.  But  it  was  far 
otherwise  -with  the  young  Englishman.  Strong  and  ac- 
tive as  he  was  by  constitution,  his  pedestrian  powers  had 
never  been  put  to  trial  in  such  ground,  and  certainly  had 
never  iDcen  so  severely  taxed.  His  breath  came  hard, 
and  already  was  he  sensible  of  a  suspicious  trembling  of 
the  limbs.  Supported,  however,  by  a  stout  heart,  he 
persevered,  although  mortified  to  find  the  effort  which 
seemed  so  easy  to  his  companions,  so  painful  to  him. 

"Take  it  easy,  Tresham,"  said  Glenvallich,  at  length, 
taking  pity  on  his  evident  distress  as  he  looked  back. 
'•Don't  blow  yourself,  man,  we  have  day  enough  before 
us;  softly-softly,  Maccombich.  Here,  Hal,  don't  trail 
that  heavy  rifle  with  you  till  you  need  it;  Kenneth,  there, 
will  carry  it— take  his  stick,  it  will  help  you  in  this  rough 
ground.''  Sensible  though  he  was,  that  the  proposed 
relief  would  be  of  arreat  service,  yet  half-ashamed  to  avail 
himself  of  it,  TresTiam  hesitated' for  a  while;  but  at  length 
he  complied,  and  walked  with  much  greater  ease.  Still 
his  inexperience,  and  the  excessive  inequality  of  the 
ground,  subjected  him  to  a  world  of  slips  and  tumbles; 
and  so  treacherous  w^as  the  surface,  that  one  and  all  of 
the  party,  not  excepting  the  practised  forester  himself, 
sunk  frequently  up  to  the  middle  in  muddy  holes,  and 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  55 

tumbled  head  foremoet  into  the  ruts  and  hollows  of  the 
subterranean  streamlets. 

"Stop  a  little  here,"  said  Glenvallich,  partly  perhaps 
in  pity  to  his  friend,  as  they  reached  a  darkly  wooded 
dingle  through  which  a  rivulet  brawled;  "this  is  a  likely 
spot — we  must  search  this  burn  inch  by  inch — seldom 
does  it  want  a  deer." 

They  questioned  it  thoroughly,  spreading  out  in  dif- 
ferent directions,  but  without  success.  "Nothing  here, 
at  all  events,"  said  Tresham,  as  they  met  again.  "If 
there  was,  we  must  have  seen  it." 

"Not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  his  friend;  "I  have  known 
a  deer  in  this  same  wood,  to  be  within  ten  yards  of  three 
men  who  were  in  search  of  him,  yet  get  oif  unseen  of 
them  all;  but  we  have  now  to  make  our  way  alone — Dun- 
can and  his  myrmidons  must  drive  the  wood.  It  will 
take  them  near  an  hour  to  get  to  the  other  end,  so  Ave 
may  take  a  peep  into  the  corry  above,  before  going  to 
our  posts.    Away  with  you,  Maccombich." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,  we'll  be  off;  but  mind*  and  look  ye  weel 
among  the  black  burns,  above  thonder — and  dinna  forget 
the  pass  under  the  fall  in  the  westermost  burn,  sir — and 
see  what  tracks  ye  can  find,  sir — ye  ken  them  as  weel's 
mysel — and  dinna  hurry,  sir,  the  day's  long — tak  yere 
time." 

With  these  cautions  very  earnestly  uttered,  away 
went  Duncan  and  his  troops;  and  Glenv^allich  saying, 
"Follow  me,  Tresham,  I  must  act  stalker  for  the  nonce 
'  — up  this  way," — took  his  course  up  the  hill. 

The  difficulty  of  the  ground  seemed,  if  possible,  to  in- 
crease as  they  resumed  their  course.  It  was  by  aid  of 
hands  as  well  as  feet  that  they  scrambled  up  the  steep 
brae,  still  thickly  tangled  as  before;  and  the  number  of 
dead  trees  whicfi  had  fallen  among  the  tall  brushwood, 
formed  barricades,  which  it  was  equally  difficult  to 
scramble  over  or  to  pass  through.  "What  trees  these 
are!"  exclaimed  Tresham,  pausing  for  breath  beside  a 
pine  of  monstrous  girth,  and  a  multitude  of  branches, 
although  of  height  inferior  to  many  near  it.  "What  a 
pyramid  of  colossal  strength! — and  look  at  this  huge,  de- 
cayed trunk,  close  to  it.  ^Decayed,  did  I  say?  not  at  all, 
faith;  I  €ee  it  is  fresh  as  the  day  it  was  cut." 

"And  yet,"  remarked  his  friend,  "it  cannot  have  been 
cut — or  burnt  down,  as  is  more  probable— within  these 
forty  years:  wood  of  such  growth  as  that  will  last  unde- 

*  Mind— remember, — so  used  in  fLgliland  Englisfi. 


56  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

cayed  for  agee.  See  these  jagged  looking  fellows,  that 
have  lived  their  life  and  died  where  they  stood — look 
how  they  stare  up  on  all  sides,  like  the  ribs  of  some  mon- 
strous wreck.  How  they  have  been  twisted  by  the  winds, 
and  how  they  toss  their  huge  gray  limbs  about — who  can 
tell  when  they  departed  this  life?  like  the  gray  stones  of 
Ossian,  they  tell  of  other  days." 

"Assuredly  this  forest  scenery  is  most  striking  and 
pecuhar — grand  and  Salvator-like  indeed! — what  a  lovely 
green,  too,  these  bilberry  bushes  have,  and  that  gigan- 
tic fern — how  well  it  contrasts  with  these  gray  stumps 
and  dark  firs — and  how  rich  the  blossom  of  the  heath  is! 
And  faith!  it  is  no  trifling  relief  to  stand  still  a  moment 
and  look  at  it  all,  and  to  dwell  a  little  upon  that  magnifi- 
cent chaos  of  hills  and  glens,  which  our  elevation  now 
permits  us  to  overlook." 

"Aye,  it  is  a  splendid  scene,  truly,"  said  Glenvallich, 
smiling;  "but  nevertheless,  we  must  bid  it  adieu,  and  pro- 
ceed." 

Scarcely  had  they  advanced  many  yards,  when  Glen- 
vallich stopped  short  among  a  brake  of  ferns.  "Hush — 
stop!  a  deer's  track — fresh,"  whispered  he;  "see  here, 
where  the  dew  has  been  brushed  off— and  look,  here  is 
the  foot  mark.  He  has  crossed  the  burn  at  the  pass,  and 
may  be  close  to  us  at  this  moment."  Passing  onwards  in 
quest,  the  sportsmen  came  to  one  of  those  green,  mossy 
spots,  which  indicates  and  surrounds  a  spring  upon  the 
face  of  a  hill.  "See — further  traces,"  said  Glenvallich; 
"only  look  how  he  has  scampered  up  the  moss — ah — it's 
only  a  roe;  see  where  he  has  been  scraping — he  won't  do 
for  us;  come  along,  we  pass  the  burn  here." 

They  were  approaching  a  brake  of  birch  and  bog- 
myrtle,  as  Glenvallich  said  this,  and  scarce  had  they  en- 
tered it,  when  Tresham,  hearing  a  slight  rustling,  turn- 
ed round,  and  saw  a  beautiful  animal  bounding  past  him. 
In  a  moment  his  rifle  was  at  his  shoulder,  and  his  finger 
on  the  trigger;  but  another  glance  stopped  its  pressure, 
for  he  saw  that  the  creature's  head  was  ungraced  by 
antlers.  "See,  Charles,  see!"  said  he,  as  he  lowered 
the  muzzle  of  his  piece. 

"Hah!"  exclaimed  his  friend,  turning  short,  and  ra- 
pidly levelling  his  uncocked  rifle.  "How  easily  could  I 
check  these  graceful  and  rapid  boundings;  but  go,  poor 
beast — thou  art  safe.  A  roe,  Harry,  a  roe!  and  see  her 
young  one  following  at  a  short  distance,  in  its  mother's 
wake;  it  is  her  tracks  we  have  seen — alions!'^ 

Instead  of  abruptly  ascending  further,  they  now  slanted 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  57 

along  the  face  of  the  hill  till  they  reached  the  water- 
course; a  deep  gash,  worn  bj.^  a  rapid  and  perennial  tor- 
rent, quite  through  the  soil  into  the  living  rock  of  the 
mountain  side.  The  rugged  banks  were  covered  with 
dense  thickets  of  the  trees  common  to  such  situations, 
which  overhung  the  stream,  or  interrupted  its  course 
with  their  fallen  and  withered  boughs.  The  torrent 
itself,  dark,  foaming,  and  impetuous,  leapt  from  rock  to 
rock,  and  ledge  to  ledge,  in  many  a  petty  fail,  and  some- 
times in  cascades  of  considerable  height  and  grandeur. 
The  pass  led  by  a  pool  between  two  of  these  lalls]  a 
deeply  furrowed  ledge  of  rock  aflbrded  stepping  stones, 
when  the  stream  was  low,  by  which  an  active  man  might 
spring  across.  Having  overleapt  this  obstacle,  Ihey  soon 
emerged  from  the  wood  upon  the  more  open  hill,  where 
the  heather,  although  still  long  and  thick,  was  less  tan- 

fled  than  in  the  Ibrest;  and  the  more  solid  and  less  bro- 
en  ground  afforded  firmer  footing.  The  change  was 
ve.r;r  comfortable  to  Tresham,  who  now  soon  recovered 
his  failing  wind,  and  felt  his  sinews  recover  a  firmer  tone 
—and  they  cautiously  approached  the  crest  of  the  height 
to  which  they  had  won  their  way  wath  so  much  toil. 

Glenvallich  now  stealing  forwards,  began  with  curious 
and  jealous  eye  to  scan  through  his  glass  the  broad  hol- 
low which  rose  gradually  above  them.  After  continuing 
this  survey  for  some  minutes  in  silence,  he  beckoned 
Tresham  to  his  side, 

"Antlers,  by  Jove!"  said  he,  in  a  half  whisper;  "I  have 
them,  and  in  no  bad  place  neither;  this  will  be  our  game, 
or  I'm  mistaken.  See — take  tJie  glase;  look  to  the  left  of 
that  white  stump  below  me  rock  there,  close  to  a  small 
gingle  white  stone.  There  he  lies,  I  can  see  him  with 
the  naked  eye." 

"And  I  can't  catch  him  even  with  the  glass,"  replied 
Tresham,  after  peering  for  some  time  through  the  teles- 
cope, "I  see  nothing,  Charles." 

"What,  don't  you  see  that  brown  spot?  you  can't  have 
found  the  place.  By  heavens,  there's  more  of  them;  give 
me  the  glass; — yes,  faith,  there  are— one,  two,  three 
hinds  feeding;  and  their  calves  too — see,  look  a^ain." 

But  it  was  in  vain  that  Tresham's  unpractised  eve 
wandered  over  the  brown  waste,  until,  as  by  chance,  the 
field  of  the  telescope  traversed  the  place,  a  slight  move- 
ment in  what  he  had  taken  for  the  withered  branch  of 
some  decayed  tree  caught  his  eye. 

"Ah!  I  have  him  now,  by  Jove!  God  bless  me!  what  a 
grand  fellow!  how  beautiful  he  looks!— and  he's  lying 


58  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

too — and  there  are  the  hinds — I  see  them  also;  but  how 
shall  we  get  at  him?" 

"Why,  he'll  cost  us  a  scramble  and  a  good  blow,  no 
doubt.  Perhaps  we  may  have  to  climb  the  shoulder  of 
Scoore-vialach,  and  round  by  his  top,  that  high  peak 
yonder." 

"The  devil!  that  will  be  a  job— but  never  mind;  any 
thing  for  a  shot  at  that  noble  fellow." 

"Well,  he  and  his  ladies  are  quiet  where  they  are,  for 
the  day;  and  the  men  must  by  this  time  have  got  to  their 
posts;  let  us  go  and  attend  the  passes.  You  see  that 
black  stump  on  the  brow  below  us;  lake  your  station 
there,  it  commands  the  whole  face  below,  within  rifle 
shot.  I  will  go  nearer  the  burn.  If  you  see  any  thing 
pass,  that  makes  rather  for  me  than  for  you,  put  your 
cap  on  the  muzzle  of  your  rifle  thus — I  will  do  the  same. 
Good  luck  to  you,  and  'hold  straight.'  " 

The  loss  of  half  an  hour,  and  some  trial  of  patience, 
was  the  sole  result  of  this  arrangement.  One  or  two 
roes  passed  the  sportsmen,  and  several  black  cock,  the 
sight  of  which  tempted  Tresham  solely  to  exercise  his 
skill  at  a  flying  shot;  but  if  there  were  any  deer  in  the 
wood,  they  tooK  other  passes  than  those  watched  by  the 
two  gentlemen. 

The  forester  now  came  up,  and  Glenvallich  informed 
him  of  the  stag  and  hinds  he  had  seen.  The  methods  of 
best  approaching  them  unobserved  were  eagerly  dis- 
cussed; and  having  decided  that  it  was  at  all  events  ad- 
visable to  reconnoitre  them  from  the  shoulder  of  a  hill 
ftbovo  them,  the  party  set  their  faces  boldly  to  the  brae, 
and  began  to  breast  it  straight  up;  And  now  oncA  more 
was  Tresham  made  sensible  of  his  own  deficiency,  aria 
of  the  superior  vigour  of  his  companions:  pride  and 
"pluck,"  however,  bore  him  on,  though  his  knees  bent 
under  him,  and  his  head  swam,  with  the  sustained  exer- 
tion. The  signal  to  halt  and  reconnoitre  was  at  the 
moment  as  gratifying  an  intimation  as  he  could  have  re- 
ceived. Five  hinds,  with  their  calves,  and  two^  stags, 
were  now  distinctly  visible,  full  eight  hundred  feet  Be- 
neath them,  as  they  stood,  or  rather  lay  perched  upon 
the  brink  of  a  giddy  precipice  which  rose  above  the  hollow. 

"Well,  Maccombich,  what's  next  to  be  done?  must  we 
climb  the  hill,  and  go  round  the  scour?" 

"Aye,  'deed  that  ye  most,"  responded  the  forester. 
"See,"  continued  he,  throwing  some  light  particles  of 
grass  into  the  air,  "the  -wun  's  a'  up  the  hill,  and  there's 
no  a  burn  or  corry  that  '11  hide  us.    It's  doon  yon  burn, 


♦  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  59 

below  Craig-cail-lichdhu,  we  must  go,  and  tak'  the  hol- 
low a'  the  way  to  thon  bit  hilloch;  and  then  we'll  get  at 
them  easy:  they  wmnna  stir  the  day  any  how— we're  sure 
o'  that."' 

As  Duncan  made  these  observations,  he  was  cautiously 
retreating  from  the  brink  of  the  rock,  from  whence  he 
had  been  observing  the  deer,  when  all  at  once  his  person 
became  fixed  in  an  attitude  of  eager  attention,  which 
might  have  supplied  the  sculptor  with  an  admirable 
study,  and  straining  his  eyes  towards  the  upper  extre- 
mity of  the  corry.  lie  exclaimed,  in  an  earnest  whLsper, 

"O  Glenvallichl  we're  in  luck  the  day!  there  he  is, 
there's  the  very  staig  your  honour  was  after  the  last 
time  ye  cam'  up;  him  that  ye  touched  on  the  side,  an'  we 
could  na  get  sight  o'  again!  I've  seen  him  twice  since 
yon.  and  a  grand  one  he  is.  O  Trochconuilorst!^  but 
we'll  hav^e  you  the  day,  or  the  mischief's  in't;  we  most 
go  clean  round  the  scour  noo,  any  how,  for  we'll  hae  to 
come  down  the  Glaig-na-gaiorj  on  him." 

This  information  set  the  party  into  instant  motion. 
Off  they  started  in  high  spirits,  leaving  Kenneth  to  watch 
the  deer  below  them,  lest  any  accident  should  startle 
them,  or  lest  they 'should  feed  away  from  the  spot.  The 
ascent  proved  most  arduous,  for  they  had  to  pass  round 
the  peak  of  one  of  the  loftiest  mountains  in  Scotland,  at 
a  height  scarcely  two  hundred  feet  below  the  summit. 
TresHam  was  once  more  forced  to  abandon  his  rifle  to 
the  gillie,  and  still  he  found  himself  lagging  behind;  for 
Maccombich,  stimulated  by  a  sight  of  the  animals  he 
loved,  forgot  the  inability  of  others,  and  glided  up  the 
hill  with  the  swiftness  and  sure-footedness  of  a  goat. 
Even  Glenvallich  at  length  found  it  expedient  to  call 
upon  him  to  slacken  his  speed,  and  Tresham.  breathless 
and  reeling,  was  absolutely  forced  to  make  frequent  halts. 
Youth  and  spirits,  and  good  English  bottom  themselves, 
failed  at  length,  and  the  young  man  came  to  a  stand  still. 

"You  were  right,"  said  he,^"about  this  cursed  jacket, 
it  is  too  hea\'y'  for  such  work — by  the  Lord,  man!  a  fel- 
low, to  climb  this  mountain,  should  go  in  cuei^po:  the 

kilt's  your  only to  the  devil  with  the  velveteen!"  and 

he  threw  it  from  him,  remaining  in  his  shirt-sleeves  and 
waistcoat. 

"Stay,  stay,  Harry!  those  white  arms  will  never  do; 
they  would  give  the  alarm  at  two  miles  distance, — here, 
here's  the  jacket  you  despised  in  the  morning." 

*  Literally  "Bad  ad\-ice  to  you,"  a  gaelic  malediction, 
t  The  goat's  dell. 


60  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

"Thank  you, — this  is  a  relief:  and  now  have  at  it  once 
more." 

The  highest  point  was  reached  at  length,  and  a  de- 
scent, little  better  than  a  precipice,  lay  be^re  them.  But 
thoufirh  Tresham,  in  cooler  moments,  might  have  shud- 
dere3  at  the  danger  he  ran,  his  mind  was  at  this  time 
too  highly  excited  to  scruple  at  folio wingjiis  daring  com- 
panions, who  bounded  downwards  at  a'mte  which  soon 
carried  them  to  the  bottom. 

"Now  for  it,  Harry;  now  for  it  in  earnest,"  said  Glen- 
vallich,  after  a  moment's  halt,  to  recover  breath.  '"Dou- 
ble quick,  while  we  may — we  shall  soon  have  to  go  slow 
enough;"  and  entering  the  body  of  a  shallow  water- 
course, they  descended  its  rough  bed  at  a  rapid  pace. 
The  waft  of  a  hand  from  Duncan,  who  led,  stopped  the 
imrty;  and  crouching  low,  they  changed  their  quick  step 
for  a  stealthy  pace,  with  which  they  rounded  a  height, 
and  under  its  shelter  remained,  untii'their  exact  position, 
with  regard  to  the  object  of  their  quest,  should  be  ascer- 
tained. 

''Look  here,"  whispered  Glenvallich,  taking  Tresham 
by  the  arm,  after  having  made  a  short  examination  him- 
self, "what  think  you  of  Duncan  for  a  pilot?" 

Raising  his  eyes  to  a  level  with  the  heather  t6p,  Tre- 
sham could  see,  at  the  distance  of  not  more  than  three 
hundred  yards,  the  horns  of  a  noble  stag  just  rising  be- 
tween two  hags.  No  other  part  of  the  animal  was  visi- 
ble; but  the  movement  of  the  antlers,  which  slowly  turned 
from  side  to  side,  proved  sufficiently  that  he  maintained 
a  vigilant  look  out  after  his  own  safety. 

"We'll  match  him  yet,  I  think,"  said  Glenvallich. 

Retreating  a  few  yards,  to  get  further  under  cover  of 
the  rising  ground,  Maccombich,  followed  by  the  rest  of 
the  party,  crept  on  all  fours  from  the  water  course, 
across  thirty  or  forty  yards  of  long  heather-covered 
muir,  until  they  reached  a  maze  of  peat-bog  cracks,  of 
little  depth,  but  sufficient  to  cover  a  man  creeping  flat 
upon  his  belly.  This,  although  the  moss  was  moist  and 
muddy,  they  were  forced  to  submit  to,  as  the  only  way 
of  crossing  unseen  by  their  intended  victim,  and  in  this 
manner  they  gained  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  more 
upon  the  deer's  position. 

The  forester,  alone,  was  now  sent  on  to  ascertain  the 
means  of  further  progress:  and  after  an  absence  of  more 
than  ten  minutes,  which  to  the  sportsmen  seemed  a  full 
hour,  he  returned  creeping  like  a  worm,  and  beckoning 
the  party  to  follow  in  the  same  manner.    This  they  did, 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  61 

and  at  length,  keeping  along  the  peat-cracks,  got  a 
chasm  deep  enough  to  afford  sufficient  cover  ibr  the 
whole  body. 

"He's  no  a  hunder'  yards  from  you  this  moment.  Glen- 
vallich,"  whispered  the  forester,  in  scarcely  audible  ac- 
cents, "and  the  wind  is  strong  from  him.  Ye  most  climb 
this  know;  if  you  can  get  him  within  eighty  yards,  dinna 
seek  to  get  nearer,  for  he's  in  a  wide  green  heuch,  and 
he's  very  jealous.  I  dinna  think  ye'll  mak'  muckle  better 
o'  it;  but  ochone!  sir,  tak'  time  and  be  canny — I  wudna 
for  ten  pund  he  got  awa!" 

"Never  fear  me,  man;  but  here's  Mr.  Tresham  must 
take  Ihe  first  chance — I'll  fire  only  if  he  misses.  Come 
along,  Harry." 

The  forester  cast  a  look  of  mingled  disappointment 
and  remonstrance  at  his  master,  but  it  was  disregarded. 
Tresham  also,  who  still  shook  from  head  to  foot,  with 
recent  exertion  and  present  excitement,  would  have  ex- 
cused himself  from  interfering  with  the  anterior  rights 
of  his  friend  in  this  particular  animal;  but  Glenvallich 
would  not  listen  to  him. 

"Have  done  with  this  debating,"  said  he,  "we  shall 
lose  the  deer — follow  me,  Tresham." 

Cautiously,  like  a  cat  stealing  on  its  prey,  foot  by  foot, 
and  inch  by  inch,  did  Glenvallich,  grovelling  in  the  hea- 
ther, advance  towards  the  crest  of  the  knoll  in  front  of 
him;  when  the  deer's  antlers  moved,  he  was  still, — when 
they  took  their  natural  position,  he  moved  forwards. 
Tresham  followed  in  his  track,  stopping  or  advancing  as 
he  did,  until  they  had  reached  some  twenty  paces  on- 
wards from  the  ravine.  Glenvallich  then  signed  to  him 
to  raise  his  head  with  caution.  He  did  so,  and  saw,  with 
a  sensation  of  eager  delight  which  increased  his  agita- 
tion to  a  painful  pitch,  the  noble  stag  lying  among  some 
rushy  grass,  apparently  in  the  most  unsuspicious  tran- 
quillity, occasionally  scratching  a  part  of  his  hide  with  a 
fork  of  his  antlers,  and  driving  away  the  insects  which 
appeared  grievously  to  torment  him. 

"Take  him  ashehes,  Harry;  aim  low,  at  the  shoulder," 
whispered  GlenvaUich.  The  heart  of  Tresham  beat 
more  audibly  than  ever  it  had  done  on  goino-  into  action, 
as  he  carefully  extended  and  levelled  his  rifle.  Whether 
it  was  the  slight  click  of  cocking,  or  some  movement 
made  in  the  heather,  as  he  stretched  out  the  piece  to  take 
aim,  is  uncertain,  but  the  stag  started,  and  made  a  move- 
ment as  if  about  to  rise,  just  at  the  moment  when  Tres- 
ham was  pressing  the  trigger.    The  circumstance,  pro- 

VOL.  L  F 


62  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

bably,  unsettled  his  aim,  for  the  rifle  exploded,  but  the 
ball  flew  over  its  intended  object. 

But  not  thus  was  the  unfortunate  animal  to  escape; 
for  scarce  had  the  report  of  Tresham's  shot  made  him 
start  from  his  lair,  when  the  rifle  of  Glenvallich  gave 
forth  its  fatal  contents,  and  the  stag  making  one  high 
bound  from  the  earth  tumbled  headlong  forwards,  and 
lay  struggling  in  the  agonies  of  death.  He  had  antici- 
pated the  possibility  of  his  friend's  failure,  and  prepared 
to  remedy  it — which  he  did  effectually,  for  the  ball  had 
struck  the  animal  jast  behind  the  shoulder,  and  went 
clean  through  its  heart. 

"Hurrah!  capital!  grand!  by  Jove  he  has  got  it," 
shouted  Tresham,  starting  up:  but  the  arm  of  Glenval- 
lich pulled  him  down  again, 

"Hush! — be  quiet,"  whispered  he;  "never  do  so — there 
may  be  tAventy  more  deer  near  us,  of  which  we  yet  know 
nothing — such  a  halloo  would  send  them  all  on'.  Load 
3-our  piece — load  quickly." 

While  they  were  performing  this  necessary  operation, 
Maccombich,  who  had  joined  them,  and  was  keeping 
watch  around  them,  touched  his  arm,  and  pointing  with 
one  hand,  shoAved  him  three  fine  stags  moving  off  to  the 
further  hill,  alarmed,  no  doubt,  by  the  reports  of  the 
rifles,  and  probably  by  the  exclamation  of  Tresham. 
"God  bless  me!"  said  the  mortified  young  man,  "this  is  a 
lesson  I  shall  not  forget;  but  who  could  have  imagined  it?" 

A  little  further  scrutiny  by  the  practised  eye  of  Mac- 
combich,  was  sufficient  to  convince  the  party  that  there 
was  no  more  game  near  them,  at  least  in  view;  so  the 
hunters  advanced  to  break  the  deer,  as  it  is  called,  by 
cutting  the  throat,  and  disembowelling  it;  and  while 
Maccombich  was  performing  this  sportsmanlike  duty,  it 
was  amusing  to  watch  the  rapture  to  which,  when  unre- 
strained by  habitual  caution,  he  now  gave  full  way  on 
the  glad  occasion  of  a  successful  shot.  Apostrophizing 
it  in  Gaelic,  he  addressed  to  it  every  reproachful  epithet 
he  could  think  of,  as  a  villain  whicH  had  so  often  baffled 
their  murderous  efforts:  it  was  a  scoundrel,  and  a  ras- 
cal, and  a  devil,  to  whom  he  wished  a  bad  end,  and  whose 
soul,  heart,  and  liver,  he  gave  to  the  devil:  then  chang- 
ing his  tone,  he  lavished  upon  it  every  expression  of  en- 
dearment in  which  his  language  is  so  fruitful,  but  which, 
when  translated,  often  sounds  strangely  enough  to  Eng- 
lish ears.  It  was  his  dear,  his  darling,  his  bonny  beast, 
his  cattle,  his  love.  He  seemed  to  abandon  himself  to 
the  very  intoxication  of  dehght,  and  it  was  singular  to 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  68 

eee  a  man  habitually  srrave  and  reserved,  acting  as  iffor 
the  time  he  had  actually  been  deprived  of  reason. 

"Come,  this  is  well  enough,"  said  Glenvallich  after  a 
while;  ''but  you  must  have  another  chance  yet,  Harry. 
I  want  two  more  haunches  at  least.  What  say  you,  Mac- 
corabich?  I  fear  the  deer  w^e  lodged  lower  down  may  be 
off  on  hearing  our  shots." 

"I  dinna  ken  that,  sir,"  responded  Duncan,  who  now 
sheathing  his  skeau-dhu,  after  performing  his  duty,  had 
resumed  his  habitual  composure;  "thon  three  staigs 
that's  off,  are  no  the  ones  that  Kenneth's  watching;  but 
what's  the  lad  aboot?  Ou.  deel  abit  but  they're  there  yet 
— see  till  him  wafting  us." 

They  turned  their  eyes  to  the  point  where  their  sen- 
tinel was  perched  above  them,  like  a  bird  on  the  ledge  of 
a  rock.  He  had  now  risen  and  retired  a  few  paces  back 
from  the  edge  of  the  precipice,  where  he  stood  making 
signals,  which  they  soon  discovered  to  relate  to  the  ani- 
mals he  was  watching,  and  the  sportsmen  accordingly 
recommenced  their  approaches  in  form.  These  so  en- 
tirely resembled  their  first  proceedings,  that  the  detail 
may  be  spared.  The  herd  were  soon  to  be  perceived, 
some  lying  down,  some  feeding  about,  and  a  ridge  of 
rock,  about  a  hundred  yards  distant  from  the  spot,  gave 
the  sportsmen  comparatively  easy  means  of  approach. 
Ascending  with  proper  caution  among  the  crags,  they 
found  themselves  about  the  distance  we  have  mentioned, 
gazing  down  upon  their  destined  victims,  themselves 
safe  the  w4iile  from  all  risk  of  observation.  Three  of  the 
hinds  were  quietly  lying  down,  a  toss  of  their  heads  to 
shake  off  the  flies  being  the  only  indication  of  motion 
which  they  gave.  Two  were  feeding  in  all  security  at  a 
considerable  distance;  but  there  were  other  two,  a  stag 
and  a  hind,  which  appeared  quite  upon  the  alert,  seldom 
putting  down  their  heads  to  crop  the  grass,  and  staring 
around  them  with  a  vigilant  glance,  which  was  the  more 
remarkable,  when  contrasted  with  the  careless  securiiy 
of  the  rest  of  the  herd. 

"Is  he  within  fair  shot?"  whispered  Tresham,  as  they 
gazed  on  this  interesting  scene.  "He'll  be  off,  I  fear,  ii^ 
we  don't  take  him  now." 

"Hush— be  quiet— he  is  not  our  mark— wait  awhile." 

During  this  time  the  forester,  who  had  taken  a  differ- 
ent direction,  had  gained  the  crest  of  the  rocks  at  a  point 
near  the  precipice.  He  was  now  seen  creeping  back 
from  his  position  like  a  knowing  old  pointer,  who,  having 
found  game  at  a  distance,  comes  back  to  tell  his  master. 


64  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

"We  must  join  him,"  whispered  GJenvallich,  as  they 
observed  his  slight  but  earnest  gesture;  and  they  also, 
retrograding  in  the  same  vermicular  fashion,  crept  down 
the  descent  and  joined  their  guide. 

"He's  there,  sir,  just  under  the  nose  o' that  black  craig 
— and  feggs!  but  he's  a  grand  one.  I  ken  that  chap  weeT; 
he's  a  staig  o'  ten  branches,  and  there's  a  broken  knob 
on  his  right  horn. — He's  as  fat  as  butter.  This  way,  sir, 
up  that  slap  in  the  brae,  and  creep  forward  till  yon  bit 
gray  heather — ye'Jl  get  within  sixty  yards  o' the  fellow 
— ye  can  just  put  the  rifle  o' wr  it,  an'  ye  canna  miss  him." 

Following  these  directions  they  crept  forward,  and  by 
dint  of  writhing  and  crawling,  they  reached  the  tuft  of 
heather.  "Now,  Harry,  stop  and  take  breath:  be  cool, 
and  take  good  aim — you  may'nt  get  such  a  chance  as 
this  in  a  whole  six  weeks'  stalking."  Such  was  Glen- 
vallich's  whispered  warning  to  his  friend,  as  he  cautious- 
ly raised  his  head  to  spy  the  deer.  "Look  at  the  lazy 
scoundrel,"  continued  he,  in  the  same  scarcely  audible 
accents;  "there  he  lies  like  a  mighty  Don,  while  his  fol- 
lowers are  forced  to  keep  watch  and  ward  for  his  safety 
— ^but  it's  the  way  with  his  betters." 

Tresham  raising  his  head,  saw  the  mighty  stag  lying 
like  a  dead  thing  at  full  length  on  his  side,  basldng  in  the 
sunshine;  an  indolent  shudder,  when  a  troublesome  fly 
would  tickle  his  hide,  being  the  only  symptom  of  remain- 
ing animation. 

'Rouse  the  lazy  rascal  with  a  rifle  ball,"  whispered 
Glenvaflich;  "take  him  just  behind  the  shoulder;  but  as 
you  are  above  him,  aim  rather  low.  Stop — you've  got 
the  middle  sight  up:  take  the  point  blank  one — he's  not 
sixty  yards  on'." 

"By  heaven!  it's  almost  a  shame  to  do  it  while  he  lies 
so — it's  almost  like  treachery,"  returned  Tresham,  still 
trembling  with  eage)-ness,  as  he  complied  with  the  di- 
rections of  his  friend;  "but  here  goes!" 

His  eye  and  hand  were  this  time  more  true:  the  flash 
of  the  rifle  was  instantly  followed,  or  almost  accompa- 
nied, by  a  wince  of  the  prostrate  stag,  which,  however, 
in  another  second  bounded  up  with  the  speed  of  light, 
ran  a  few  paces,  and  then  stood  gazing  about  him.  The 
rest  of  the  herd,  alarmed  by  the  crack  of  the  rifle,  had 
also  started  up,  ran  together  and  stood  gazing  in  a  group 
upon  a  little  height,  looking  round  as  if  m  search  of  their 
leader. 

But  that  leader  seemed  in  no  condition  to  join  them, 
for  he  was  obviously  severely  wounded.    *  'That  was  not 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  6$ 

• 

a  bad  shot,"  said  the  forester,  calmly  examining  the  ani- 
mal through  his  glass,  as  it  stood  sicfe  and  panting.  "It's 
a  wee  bit  o'wr  far  behind;  but  it's  through  him.  I  see 
the  blood  dropping  fast.  He  canna  go  long,  that  one— if 
he'll  once  lie  down,  he'll  no  get  up  again." 

While  this  was  passing,  the  party  had  lain  perfectly 
still  behind  the  tuft  of  heather,  -watching  the  movement's 
of  the  wounded  deer.  It  now  moved  slowly  after  the 
herd,  who  were  trotting  down  the  corry,  stopping  every 
now  and  then  to  gaze  backwards,  and  discover  the  cause 
of  their  alarm. 

"He'll  need  another  shot,  I  fear,  after  all,"  said  Glen- 
vallich,  "and  he  is  too  far  off  for  it  now.  Duncan,  I  wish 
we  had  not  left  the  dogs  behind.  Better  you  run  down 
by  yon  burn,  and  try  to  turn  him  back  this  way,  and  waft 
to  Allan  when  you  see  him,  to  come  up  with  Luath;  if 
he  casts  wrong  we'll  try  the  dog  at  all  events." 

Away  ran  Duncan  like  a  deer-hound  on  the  view,  and 
soon  succeeded  in  gaining  a  point  betw^een  the  retreat- 
ing herd  and  the  wounded  stag;  while  Kermeth,  who  had 
sat  watching  on  the  top  of  the  precipice  above  the  corry, 
motionless  as  one  of  its  own  gray  stones,  no  sooner  saw 
the  game  roused,  than  heedless  of  the  imminent  risk,  he 
bounded  down  its  craggy  face,  availing  himself  of  every 
ledge,  springing  from  point  to  point,  swinging  himself 
down  the  smoother  faces  by  the  shaggy  tufts  of  heather 
in  their  crevices,  and  slipping  or  sliding,  and  sometimes 
rolling  down  the  soft  grassy  slopes,  until,  in  a  time  in- 
credibly short,  and  miraculously  with  whole  limbs,  he 
reached  the  rougher  but  less  precipitous  ground  of  the 
corry-side,  from  whence  he  set  ofi'  at  full  speed  to  co- 
operate with  his  principal,  Maccombich.  But  the  stag, 
probablv  scenting  the  latter,  who  had  now  got  to  w^ind- 
"ward  of  him,  started  off  at  a  rate  unexpectedly  swift, 
and  eluding  both  the  sportsmen  and  their  assistants, 
dashed  into  the  rough  ground  towards  the  bottom  of 
the  corry,  and  made  after  the  herd,  which  had  likewise 
taken  that  direction. 

Away  went  Duncan  after  him  at  incredible^  speed, 
waving  his  bonnet  for  the  rest  to  follow:  and  Kenneth 
started  off  to  a  height,  and  signalled  to  Allen,  who  had 
been  placed  in  a  hollow  out  of  sight,  with  the  hound; 
while  GlenvaUich  and  Tresham,  (whose  vigour  had  be- 
come quite  restored  by  the  excitement  of  the  scene,)  fol- 
lowed as  each  best  could  make  his  way  in  the  direction 
taken  by  the  Maccombich  and  the  stag. 

Panting  and  out-breathed,  in  less  than  twenty  minutes, 
f2 


66  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

they  attained  a  bare  height,  which  formed  the  top  of  a 
steep  brae,  sprinkled  with  scattered  woods  and  thickets. 
It  was  round  the  base  of  this  knoll  that  the  forester  had 
disappeared  in  pursuit  of  the  stag,  and  scarcely  had  they 
reached  the  summit,  when  they  saw  that  worthy  per- 
sonage appear  below,  bare-headed,  and  wafting  with  his 
bonnet  to  hasten  their  advance.  The  perspiration  was 
pouring  down  his  face,  and  his  breast  was  stiU  heaving 
with  thick  sobs,  even  when  they  joined  him,  so  that  it 
was  some  seconds  before  he  could  articulate,  "He's 
there,  sir!"  at  length  he  said,  "I  have  him  safe— he's  in 
the  burn— ye'll  get  him  without  the  doug.  See  that  dead 
fir  tree,  wi'  the  green  birk  aside  it;  I  watched  him  intil 
that  very  bush,  and  out  o'  it  he's  no  gone  yet." 

"Come  on,  Tresham,"  then  said  Glenvallich;  "you 
must  finish  your  work;  follow  us,  Maccombich." 

A  cautious  approach  soon  brought  them  within  shot 
of  the  bush,  but  no  deer  was  to  be  seen;  and  some  time 
was  spent  in  anxious  examination.  A  slight  movement, 
liowever,  in  what  might  have  passed  for  the  branch  of  a 
dead  tree,  at  length  caught  Glenvallich's  eye.  "There's 
his  head,"  said  he;  "now  a  quick  eye  and  a  steady  hand, 
and  the  job  is  done." 

But  the  hand,  it  appeared,  was  not  steady.  That  the 
animal  was  hit  again  was  evident;  for  it  stumbled  almost 
to  falling,  and  sunk  out  of  sight  in  the  thicket.  But  that 
even  this  second  wound  was  not  fatal  became  soon  as 
clear;  for  the  sound  of  its  course  passing  through  the 
underwood  below  was  heard  immediately  after,  and  a 
glimpse  of  the  animal  itself  was  caught  by  the  sportsmen, 
as  it  dashed  through  a  brake  of  fern  just  beyond  them. 
Gluick  as  the  bouna  of  the  stag,  did  the  report  of  Glen- 
vallich's rifle  follow  its  appearance;  but  the  steadiness  of 
his  hand  did  not  second  the  keenness  of  his  sight,  for  the 
deer  was  seen  immediately  after  cantering  slowly  along 
the  brae  face  towards  the  denser  forest  beyond. 

"Loose  the  dog!"  shouted  Glenvallich;  and  Allan,  as 
soon  as  the  hound  saw  the  game,  shpt  the  collar.  Away 
bounded  Luath,  and  up  hurried  all  who  were  able,  to 
the  height  from  which  they  had  descended.  It  was  in 
truth  a  beautiful  sight.  The  wounded  but  gallant  stag, 
aroused  to  fresh  energy  by  the  sight  of  a  new  and  terrible 
enemy,  dashed  onwards  with  a  speed  which  seemed  to 
defy  both  suffering  and  pursuit,  followed^by  the  no  less 
noble  dog,  at  a  rate  which  promised  sooVi  to  lessen  the 
distance  which  had  been  between  them  at  first  starting. 
"Who  would  beUeve  that  animal  to  be  wounded!"  ex- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  67 

claimed  Tresham;  '"what  bounds  he  makes! — but  the 
hound  g-ains  on  him/' 

"I'll  awa'  up  to  the  craig-  th'onder,  and  look  what  way 
they  go,"  said  the  forester;  the  doug-'ll  may  be  turn  him, 
and  he'll  be  coming  up  the  hollow  there:  one  o'th'r:  guns 
should  be  there;"  but  I3uncan  had  miscalculated  fo;-  once. 

At  the  distance  of  three  or  four  hundred  yards  below 
where  they  stood,  the  brae  face  terminated  in  a  chaotic 
mass  of  stony  fragments,  half  covered  with  heather,  long_ 
and  shaggy,  and  full  of  stunted  birch,  and  roots  of  half 
burnt  fif  trees.  The  little  soil  which  time  had  formed 
among  them,  had  been  furrowed  and  torn  up  by  the  tor- 
rents of  winter,  so  that  the  whole  surface,  naturally 
rough,  was  intersected  by  a  multitude  of  petty  ravines 
with  sharp  strong  edges.  These,  after  many  intricate 
intersections,  ended  in  a  deep  rocky  hollow,  which  formed 
the  issue  to  a  rapid  torrent. 

To  this  dangerous  point  did  the  stag,  either  disabled 
by  his  wounds  from  facing  the  hill,  or  sensible  of  the  ad- 
vantage which  such  ground  would  give  him  over  his 
pursuers,  bend  his  course  with  headlong  rapidity,  and 
last  upon  his  haunches  followed  the  no  less  eager  hound. 
Scarcely  could  the  eye  follow  their  movements,  as  flash- 
ing through  bush  and  brake,  over  heights  and  hollows, 
theyalternately  appeared  and  disappeared  from  the  view. 
"This  will  never  do,  Kenneth,"  said  Glenvallich;  "try. 
man,  if  you  can  get  down  to  turn  the  deer  from  that 
black  hole;  the  dog  may  hold  way  for  a  while  above,  but 
if  once  they  get  into  that  wild  corry,  bolh  will  be  lost." 

Away  went  Kenneth  again  like  a  wild  goat,  bounding 
and  scrambling,  and  tumbling  down  the  brae;  but  ere  he 
reached  the  point  in  question,  the  chase  was  brought  to 
a  speedy  termination;  for  the  unfortunate  LuatlT,  less 
acquainted  than  the  game  he  pursued  with  the  nature 
of  the  ground,  while  throwing  himself  boldly  over  the 
treacherous  surface,  plunged  into  a  rocky  hole,  against 
the  opposite  side  of  which  he  struck  his  breast  and  shoul- 
der with  so  much  violence,  that  he  lay  stunned  and  mo- 
tionless on  the  spot. 

"Diaoul!"'  exclaimed  Maccombich,  as  he  witnessed 
this  catastrophe  from  the  height;  "but  de'el  be  in  my  fut 
then,  if  ye  get  off  that  way  yet!"  "With  these  words  he 
started  off  at  speed,  and  taking  right  across  the  bosom 
of  the  hollow  above,  diving  down  the  small  ravines  which 
occurred  in  his  course,  and  swiftly  breasting  up  the  op- 
posite hill,  he  gained  an  elevated  point,  which  command- 
ed a  full  view  of  the  wild  corry  to  which  the  deer  was 


68  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

tending,  as  also  of  the  other  side,  far  downwards  into 
the  glen  below. 

The  stag  in  the  meantime,  exhausted  probably  by  its 
exertions,  and  as  if  aware  of  the  fate  of  its  worst  enemy, 
now  changed  its  course,  and  avoiding  the  dangerous  and 
.  precipitous  torrent-bed,  trotted  quietly  onwards  to  the. 
ragged  wood  that  skirted  for  some  distance  its  right 
bank.  This  movement  of  the  stag  was  necessarily  un- 
seen by  the  sportsmen,  who  giving  up  their  game  as  lost 
for  the  time,  descended  to  ascertam  the  condition  of  poor 
Luath.  They  found  him  miserably  bruised,  and  w^ith 
feet  dreadfully  cut,  lying  where  the  violence  of  the  fall 
had  thrown  him.  They  had  just  raised  him  up,  and  after 
examining  his  hurts,  were  consigning  him  to  the  care  of 
Allan  to  be  conveyed  to  the  botliy,  when  their  attention 
was  directed  by  a  shrill  whistle  to  the  height  from  which 
Duncan  was  once  more  waving  them  to  come  on. 

"He  has  him,  depend  upon  it,  sir,"  said  Allan,  who 
first  saw  the  forester;  "he  has  the  deer  surely— leave 
the  doug  wi'  me  and  be  after  him." 

"Ah!  what  say  you,  Harry?  are  you  done  up  yet,  or 
have  you  as  much  life  left  as  will  serve  for  another  fag 
— it  will  be  no  joke,  I  promise  you." 

"Faith,  I  hardly  know,"  rephed  Tresham;  "if  you 
thought  there  was  a  fair  chance,  I  should  be  loth.  I 
would  fain  have  that  fellow,  certainly— what  think  you?'' 

"Why,  you  know  as  much  as  I  do;  that  Maccombich 
has  got  sight  of  him,  I  am  satisfied  of  The  fellow  has 
the  eye  of  a  falcon,  but  as  to  getting  the  beast,  that  may 
depend  on  ourselves,  as  you  know." 

"Well,  I'll  try  to  see  it  out— have  on." 

When  the  forester  saw  the  sportsmen  fairly  on  the 
way,  he  slid  down  the  height,  crossed  the  corry  and  soon 
came  up  with  them. 

"I  ken  the  very  bush  he's  in,  sirj  but  he's  restless,  very 
restless — weel  does  he  ken  that  it  he  once  lies  down  he'll 
never  rise,  an'  he's  aye  on  the  move;  go  ye  on,  sir,  to 
the  end  of  the  wud,  and  Glenvallich,  ye'll  go  straight 
down  to  thon  aller  bush — one  of  you'll  be  sure  to  have 
him." 

A  painful  and  rapid  descent  now  commenced,  in  the 
course  of  which  many  headlong  tumbles  were  received 
by  each  of  the  party  from  the  horizontal  roots  of  the 
heather,  on  which  the  feet  slipped  like  glass,  and  when 
they  reached  their  respective  stations,  they  had  the  mor- 
tification to  see  the  wounded  stag  moving  leisurely  across 
the  bottom  of  the  glen  to  the  opposite  side.    "Thannu- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  Gd 

mundiaoul!"*  exclaimed  Duncan,  surprised  out  of  all 
patience  and  propriety,  "but,  however,  that  chiel  canna 
go  far — that's  a  pace  that  canna  last.  Glenvallich,  if 
ye're  tired  gi'  me  the  gun  and  Til  follow  him  mysel'.'' 

"No,  no;  we'll  try  him  yet  once  more — he  can't  go  far; 
I  think  I  could  almost  catch  him  by  speed  of  foot,  he  gets 
on  so  poorly." 

"Na,  na,"  said  the  forester,  "there's  a  run  in  him  yet, 
and  that  we  may  find — but  we  most  see  and  turn  him — 
if  he  gets  to  Loch  Lubrich,  and  that's  no  over  three  miles 
off,  it's  only  the  gleds  and  corbies  that  'ill  see  the  rest  o' 
him." 

^"Three  miles!"  exclaimed  Glenvallich,"  six  good,  if 
it's  a  yard,  but  we'll  stop  his  progress  before  he  gets  half 
way." 

They  never  were  more  mistaken  in  their  lives.  The 
deer  crossing'  the  valley  and  the  stream  entered  an  oppo- 
posite  glen,  m  which  lay  Loch  Lubrich;  and  though  its 
pace  seemed  slow,  the  sportsman  found,  that  though 
they  contrived  to  keep  it  in  view,  toiling  over  one  height 
after  another,  they  never  neared  it  an  inch.  At  length 
faint  and  weary  they  began  to  despair,  when  the  forester 
observing  it  tending  towards  a  deep  and  rugged  hollow 
on  one  side  of  the  glen,  w^ith  a  powerful  effort  ran  for- 
ward, succeeded  in  cutting  it  off,  and  turned  it  down- 
wards in  face  and  reach  of  the  rifles. 

Glenvallich,  resolved  to  lose  no  opportunity,  fired  at  a 
great  distance,  and  hit  the  animal,  which  fell,  but  got 
once  more  upon  its  legs,  and  crossing  the  last  height  in 
their  front,  staggered  down  the  brae  to  a  promontory 
which  projected  into  Loch  Lubrich,  now  broad  before 
them  in  the  hollow  below.  "That  deer  can  never  swim," 
observed  Glenvallich,  "he's  ours  now  to  a  certainty;" 
and  mustering  their  remaining  strength,  they  pressed 
forward  to  cut  off  his  retreat  from  the  promontory. 

The  chase  now  drew  in  earnest  to  a  close.  When  ihey 
came  up,  the  persecuted  stag  was  standing  on  the  margin 
of  the  lake  streaming  with  Blood,  hesitating  to  enter  the 
water,  as  if  aware  of  his  failing  strength.  But  the  sight 
of  his  pursuers  determined  him;  he  plunged  in  and  at- 
tempted to  swim  from  the  shore.  A  shot  from  Tresham, 
aimed  at  the  head,  the  only  part  above  the  water,  struck 
one  of  his  horns,  and  stunned  him  as  it  appeared,  for 
turning  in  the  water,  he  swam  right  back  to  the  beach, 
where  a  ball  from  the  second  barrel  of  Glenvallich  put 
an  end  to  his  life  and  his  misery  together. 

*  A  tolerably  energetic  Gaelic  execration. 


70  THE     HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

Successful  as  was  the  result  of  their  chase,  and  highly 
exciting  as  it  had  been  throui^hout,  such  was  the  ex- 
hausted state  of  the  two  young  sportsmen  when  it  ter- 
minated, and  so  painful  and  bloody  had  been  its  close, 
that  their  triumph  and  exultation  were  sobered  almost 
to  sadness;  they  threw  themselves  upon  a  heathy  knoll, 
and  gazed  for  some  time  in  silence  upon  the  slaughtered 
animal.  '"'A  savage  and  butcherly  job,  it  has  been  after 
all,"  said  Tresham  at  length;  "poor  brute,  ye  died  hard, 
and  have  been  most  foully  slain!  I'm  half  sorry  for  ye!" 

"Poh,  nonsense  man,"  said  his  friend,  forcing  a  smile, 
"it's  your  rawness  at  the  work,  you're  not  well  blooded 
yet — but  I  own  we've  done  it  in  a  slovenly  manner  enough. 
I  don't  think  I  ever  saw  one  deer  take  so  much  shootmg 
— eh,  Duncan?" 

''Trouth,  no,  sir,  nor  I,"  responded  the  forester.  "But 
this  gentleman  'ill  be  a  good  hand  yet— he  has  a  quick 
eye,  for  a  first  trial,  and  faith  his  wmd  is  no  that  bad  if 
he  had  practice;  thon  scurry  up  the  last  brae  and  down 
to  the  loch,  was  a  gay  an'  tight  one  after  the  day's  work — 
but  ve'Il  be  for  home  noo,  surely — its  w^earing  late,  and 
the  Dothy's  ten  miles  off  if  it's  a  yard." 

"A  good  finish  to  a  hard  day's  work,"  said  Glenvallich 
laughing,  "what  say  you,  Harry?  but  after  so  respect- 
able a  report  from  Maccombich  on  your  first  field-day, 
pride  should  keep  you  up,  if  you  knew  but  all;  for  it's  not 
a  little,  I  assure  you,  that  could  wring  so  much  from  him, 
and  to  a  Sassenach  too — but  come,  leave  w^e  this  poor 
fellow  to  the  gillies,  and  I'll  see  if  we  can't  find  a  better 
path  home  than  the  way  we  came — there's  a  track  from 
the  loch  side  all  down  the  glen." 

With  these  words,  throwing  their  rifles  across  their 
shoulders,  the  young  men  took  the  beach  of  the  loch  with 
resolved  feet,  and  soon  fell  into  the  track;  but  night  had 
thrown  her  veil  over  the  whole  valley  before  they  caught 
the  welcome  si^ht  of  the  lights  which  shone  from  the 
windows  of  their  bothy. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 


CHAPTER  V. 


AN  ADVENTURE. 

Thou  hadst  not  best  buffet  me,  quoth  Robin  Hood, 

For  though  I  am  forlorn, 
Yet  I  have  those  will  take  my  part, 

If  I  do  blow  my  horn. 

For  evil  seemed  that  old  man's  eye, 
Dark  and  designing,  fierce  yet  shy. 

There  be  degrees  of  comparison  in  all  thing-s.  To  an- 
gle for  trout,  for  instance,  on  a  fine  summer's  day,  by  the 
side  of  a  pleasant  stream,  or  seated  in  a  boat  on  a  High- 
land loch,  with  a  westerly  breeze  strong  enough  to  pro- 
duce a  fine  curl  on  the  blue  water,  and  a  due  portion  of 
cloud  and  sunshine  to  suit  the  caprice  of  the  finny  tribe, 
such  pastime  is  not  without  its  charms,  particularly  when 
every  two  or  three  minutes  you  pull  out  a  fine  yellow- 
sided  rogue  of  something  like  a  pound  in  weight.  But 
who  that  has  experienced  the  ecstacy  of  hooking,  play- 
ing, and  landing  upon  the  pebbly  beech  of  a  deep  pool 
with  a  fine  sharp  stream  at  its  throat,  -a  fifteen  pound 
-salmon — aye,  or  a  fat  lively  grilse  of  half  that  weight — 
who  has  felt  in  every  nerve  his  vigorous  runs  and  shud- 
ders, and  seen  him  leap  yards  out  of  the  water  in  his 
struggles  to  free  himself  from  the  fatal  hook — who  has 
gloated  over  the  silver  whiteness  of  his  upturned  side  as 
he  lay  gasping  at  his  feet  after  the  deadly  tussle — who, 
we  ask,  that  has  known  the  keen  delight  of  such  a  mo- 
ment as  this,  could  return  with  any  zest  to  petty  warfare 
with  the  small  fry  of  the  brook? 

To  follow  a  clever  pack  of  beagles  after  the  timid  hare, 
has  charms  for  many,  until  their  taste  for  the  tarner 
amusement  is  destroyed  by  experiencing  the  animating 
toil  of  a  spirited  fox  hunt;  and  even  the  noble  sport  of 
grouse  shooting,  with  all  its  inimitable  variety  of  interest, 
is  found  insipid^after  the  powerful  excitement  of  a  suc- 
cessful deer  stalking  party. 

There  is  no  describing  the  irresistible  fascination  of 
this  pursuit  to  the  true  bred  Highlander.  Day  after  day 
will  he  traverse  the  haunts  of  these  noble  animals,  or 
sit  with  inexhaustible  patience,  wrapped  in  his  plaid,  be- 


72  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

hind  a  gray  stone  upon  some  well-known  commanding 
height,  watching  for  a  sight  of  them;  or  creep  for  miles 
together  on  his  Belly  like  a  worm,  to  approach  them  un- 
discovered. The  lapse  of  time,  and  the  severity  of  the 
weather,  are  alike  unheeded;  he  only  thinks  of  how  to  cir- 
cumvent his  wary  prey.  If  successful,  he  is  richly  repaid 
— if  he  fails,  it  is  but  to  renew  the  tedious  and  toilsome 
quest,  until  his  perseverance  is  at  length  rewarded. 

A  portion  of  this  infatuating  zeal  was  speedily  imbibed 
by  Tresham,  after  his  first  successful  expedition,  which 
we  have  just  described.  An  important  engagement  pre- 
vented his  friend  Glenvallich  from  remainmg  any  longer 
in  the  forest  at  this  time,  and  Tresham,  in  fact,  rose  on 
the  morrow  too  much  fatigued  with  his  exertions  of  the 
previous  day  to  dream  of  mvading  the  hill  immediately 
again.  He  therefore  returned  with  his  friend  to  Inveral- 
hch,  and  occupied  himself  for  a  day  or  two  in  sorely^  un- 
successful attempts  upon  the  fish  of  the  lake  and  of  the 
river.  As  his  weariness  wore  off",  however,  visions  of 
greater  glory  arose  on  his  soul— to  chace  the  dun  deer 
on  their  native  hills  became  again  the  object  of  his  am- 
bition; and  the  consequence  was,  a  fresh  trip  to  the  forest 
of  Glenochree. 

"Practice  maketh  perfect,"  and  "use  hghtens  labour," 
sayeth  the  well-worn  proverb  of  many  lands  and  lan- 
giiages;  nor  was  it  falsified  in  the  case  of  Henry  Tresham. 
The  toilsome  and  violent  exercise  of  deer  stalking,  be- 
came by  use  a  delightful  and  invigorating  sport,  and  he 
pursued  it  with  all  the  eagerness  of  an  ardent  tempera- 
ment. The  elegant  luxury  and  cultivated  refinements 
of  Inverallich  Castle  were  neglected,  and  the  bothy  at 
Auchonrui,  became  for  sometime  his  almost  constant 
residence. 

The  forest  was  amply  stocked  with  deer;  the  friends 
and  neighbours  of  his  friend  had  no  objection  to  venison, 
and  Tresham  supplied  them  as  well  as  the  castle  with  it 
in  abundance.  His  skill  and  knowledge  increasing  with 
experience,  gave  him  a  respectabihty  even  in  the  Gves 
of  the  somewhat  fastidious  Duncan  Maccombich.  This 
worthy  personage,  gratified  with  the  young  Enghsh- 
man's  perseverance  m  a  pursuit  which  to  him  appeared 
one  of  the  noblest  and  most  important  in  life,  was  gra- 
ciously pleased  to  overlook  the  misfortune  of  his  country 
and  parentage,  in  favour  of  his  good  qualities,  and  ex- 
tended to  him  a  degree  of  regard  which  increased  day 
by  day,  to  an  extent  scarcely  suspected  by  the  honest 
forester  himself 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  73 

In  truth,  the  case  could  not  have  been  otherwise,  with- 
out a  degree  of  ingratitude  on  the  part  of  the  good  Dun- 
can, very  foreign  to  his  nature;  for  the  generosity  of 
Tresham  had  been  largely  extended  both  to  him  and  the 
other  attendants  connected  with  the  forest;  nor  was  the 
frank,  good-humoured  condescension  with  which  he  al- 
ways addressed  them,  hstened  to  their  long  stories,  and 
questioned  them  regarding  all  that  traditional  lore,  which 
Highlanders  of  the  old  school  so  much  delight  in,  without 
its  effect  upon  his  humble  companions.  They  one  and 
all  agreed,  that  "Maister  Traisham  was  no' the  least 
proud— de'il  a  bit — he  wud  as  soon  spaik  till  a  poor  body, 
and  ta.k'  a  sneeshan  from  their  horn  mull,  as  he  wud  from 
the  laird's  gold  box — aye,  and  gie  them  a  something  to 
fill  it  wi'  too— God  bless  him!" 

It  might  be  nearly  three  w^eeks  after  the  initiation  of 
Tresham  into  the  mysteries  of  deer  stalking,  and  about 
the  beginning  of  the  month  of  August,  that  he  paid  what 
was  likely  to  be  his  last  visit  for  some  months  to  the 
bothy,  as  the  approaching  commencement  of  grouse- 
shooting  would  probably  engage  the  attention  of  sports- 
men in  other  quarters:  and  Glenvallich  had  requested 
him  to  be  his  provider  ibr  certain  friends  to  whom  he 
wished  to  send  a  specimen  of  red  deer  venison.  On  the 
morning  after  he  reached  the  forest,  he  started  at  an 
early  hour,  taking  Duncan  and  Kenneth,  with  a  slow 
hound,  to  track  such  deer  as  might  be  wounded,  and  re- 
eolved  to  spare  neither  toil  nor  pains  in  seeking  out  and 
bringing  down  the  finest  pair  of  antlers  in  the  forest. 

One  deer  had  already  fallen  a  victim  to  the  quickness 
of  his  eye,  and  the  trueness  of  his  hand;  and  Maccombich 
had  remained  behind  to  "do  the  needful"  with  the  animal, 
while  Tresham,  with  Keni»3th,  went  on  in  pursuit  of  a 
still  finer  stag,  which  had  been  observed  from  a  neigh- 
bouring height,  moving  slowly  towards  a  hill,  where  they 
supposed  he  might  possibly  take  up  his  quarters  for  the 
day. 

They  were  disappointed  of  the  object  of  their  search; 
but  having  ascended  a  height  beyond  the  dell  which  they 
had  reached,  and  reconnoitred  the  opposite  hills  through 
their  glasses,  their  eyes  were  greeted  by  the  sij^ht  ot  a 
little  grove  of  antlers,  bpistling  on  the  shoulder  oi  a  ridge 
at  a  considerable  way  off.  Regardless  of  distance,  and 
intent  only  upon  coming  up  with  their  game,  away  start- 
ed the  hunters  at  full  stretch,  to  gain  the  wind  of  this 
fine  herd.  To  effect  this,  several  hours  were  expended, 
for  the  deer,  feeding  onwards,  led  their  pursuers  neces- 

VOL.  I.  G 


/4  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

sarily  over  a  greater  space  of  ground  than  they  had  at 
all  anticipated. 

Their  perseverance,  however,  was  at  length  reward- 
ed. They  had  rounded  the  summit  of  a  rocky  scoor, 
from  whence  they  expected  to  look  down  upon  the  herd 
in  a  hollow  below,  and  were  panting  at  the  entrance  of 
a  black  cleft,  where  they  had  halted  to  recover  their 
wind  and  steady  their  nerves,  before  moving  on  to  the 
attack;  when  all  at  once  their  ears  were  assailed  by  a 
rumbling  like  that  of  distant  thunder.  "The  deer!  the 
deer!"  cried  Kenneth;  "stay  where  you  are,  sir,  till  I'll 
see  where  they're  like  to  break;"  and  with  the  agility  of 
a  roebuck,  up  darted  Kenneth  to  the  top  of  a  crag  which 
overlooked  the  corry.  In  a  moment  Tresham  saw  him 
waving  his  cap,  and  pointing  to  the  black  cleft  near  which 
he  stood.  The  rumbling  increased,  and  scarce  had  he 
time  to  throw  forward  and  cock  his  rifle,  when  the  whole 
herd,  full  fifty  in  number,  headed  by  a  dozen  of  noble 
stags,  came  trotting  up  the  cleft,  and  made  their  appear- 
ance at  its  gorge,  -within  less  than  thirty  yards  of  him. 

Practised  as  Tresham  had  been  of  late,  the  sudden  and 
overwhelming  sight  for  a  moment  robbed  him  of  his  pre- 
sence of  mind,  and  actually  took  away  his  breath.  In 
another  instant  the  crack  of  the  rifle  was  heard.  The 
foremost  stags  had  already  gone  by,  but  a  very  fine  one 
which  followed,  sprung  upwards  from  the  ground — 
stumbled  and  fell — then  rose,  and  went  oflT after  the  rest 
of  the  herd.  "Let  loose  the  dog,  Kenneth — let  it  loose 
— that's  a  dead  beast,"  exclaimed  Tresham,  and  Ken- 
neth, who  had  dragged  the  hound  after  him  up  the  rock, 
slipped  the  leash,  and  bounded  himself  down  to  the  place 
where  Henry  stood. 

The  dog,  true  to  its  instinct,  on  scenting  the  blood, 
started  off  upon  the  traces  of  the  wounded  stag.  But, 
as  the  rest  scattered  right  and  left,  and  the  dust  of  their 
trampling  blew  away,  the  hunters  became  aware  of  yet 
another  victim.  The  bullet,  which  had  perforated  the 
body  of  the  stag,  and  passed  beyond  him,  without  caus- 
ing immediate  death,  had  taken  more  decisive  effect  upon 
a  poor  hind,  which  was  trotting  unsuspiciously  on  upon 
his  other  side,  and  she  now  lay  before  them,  writhing  in 
the  agonies  of  death. 

"Be  after  the  doug,  Mr.  Tresham!"  said  Kenneth, 
hastily,  when  he  was^ware  of  the  circumstance;  "the 
staig  canna  go  far — I'll  see  till  this  baist  mysel.  Oich! 
oich!  how  will  we  ever  get  her  out  o'  this  the  nicht!" 

Away  scoured  Tresham  accordingly,  rapidly  loading 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  75 

his  rifle,  and  leaving  Kenneth  to  deal  with  the  fallen 
hind,  while  he  should  endeavour  to  keep  the  wounded 
stag-  in  view. 

In  the  meantime,  all  the  deer  had  disappeared  down 
the  gray  stony  slope  of  the  hill;  and  when  Tresham 
reached  the  shoulder,  following-  the  course  they  had 
taken,  not  one  of  them  was  in  view:  but  after  some  loss 
of  time  in  searching  with  his  eyes  on  every  hill  side  with- 
in his  ken,  he  saw  the  wounded  stag  toiling  with  effort, 
but  great  speed,  up  an  opposite  ascent,  while  the  hound, 
far  behind,  followed  eagerly  on  his  traces. 

"By  heavens  we  shall  loose  him  at  this  rate,"  shouted 
the  young  man,  mechanically,  although  there  was  none 
to  hear  him,  and  throwing  himself  down  the  steep  brae 
face  he  soon  reached  the  bottom.  The  ascent  checked 
his  speed;  but  he  had  noted  the  gray  cairn  by  which  the 
deer  had  passed,  and  in  that  direction  he  kept.  Traces 
of  blood  were  distinctly  visible  upon  some  of  the  white 
lichens  which  covered  the  stones,  so  that  he  was  satis- 
fied, so  far,  that  he  was  right;  but  on  ascending  the 
height  over  which  the  chase  had  disappeared,  neither 
dog  I  nor  deer  were  to  be  seen;  and  neither  his  lately- 
earned  experience,  nor  his  fancied  sagacity,  enabled  him 
to  judge  in  what  direction  he  should  pursue  them. 

A  long  undulating  slope  lay  now  before  him;  at  its  foot 
stretched  a  great  extent  of  gray  moss,  streaked  with 
dark  peat- cracks  and  dotted  with  little  pools  of  black 
water;  beyond,  lay  another  bare  hill-shoulder,  rising 
gradually  to  some  gloomy  lumpy  Bein  which  frowned 
under  the  shadow  of  a  thick  gray  cloud. 

His  quick  eye  at  length  detected  the  movement  of  an 
animal  of  some  sort,  in  the  gray  moss  below  him — what 
could  this  be  but  the  wounded  deer^  and  with  renewed 
hope  and  strength,  again  he  sprung  down  the  slope,  nor 
stopped  until  he  became  thoroughly  entangled  in  the 
masses  of  the  quaggy  moss.  All  trace  of  deer  or  hound 
were  now  utterly  lost,  and  Tresham,  with  a  rising  feel- 
ing of  anxiety,  began  to  look  around  for  Kenneth.  But 
he  had  now  descended  so  low  that  he  no  longer  recog- 
nised a  single  land-mark:  all  those  with  which  he  was 
hitherto  familiar  had  been  left  far  behind,  and  he  had 
never  thought  of  looking  for  others.  Several  high  ranges 
of  hills  assuredly  intervened  between  him  and  his  usual 
ground — all  of  which  had  been  traversed  and  passed  by, 
in  the  continued  ardour  of  spirit,  and  he  looked  around 
in  vain  to  determine  the  direction  which  he  had  pursued 
60  far.    To  add  to  his  perplexity,  the  sky  was  covered 


76  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

with  dense,  although  not  threatening  clouds,  and  almost 
every  height  around  him  was  last  putting  on  its  own 
diadem  ofmist. 

"A  pretty  business  this,"  said  he  to  himself;  "where 
the  deuce  may  I  have  got  to  now?  and  what  is  to  be 
done?"  He  now  first  took  note  of  the  great  space  of 
time  which  had  elapsed,  since  they  had  parted  from 
Maccombich,  and  saw  that  the  afternoon  was  fast  wan- 
ing into  ev^ening.  "It  is  worse  than  useless  to  remain 
in  this  bog,"  thought  Tresham.  "Surely  this  low  ground 
must  have  some  shealing  attached  to  it:  they  say  in  the 
hill,  follow  a  burn,  when  you  lose  your  way,  and  it  will 
guide  you  to  house  and  home:  but  where  is  there  a  burn 
here? — we  must  seek  one." 

Striding  onwards  with  long  and  determined  steps,  but 
no  longer  with  the  alert  pace  of  excited  hope,  Tresham 
still  held  on  across  the  moss,  tending  towards  a  point 
where  there  seemed  to  be  a  sinking  of  the  ground:  but 
its  irregularity  and  difficulty  bewildered  him  so  much, 
that  in  utter  despair  he  lost  sight  of  all  plan  or  direction, 
iand  advanced  at  random.  The  ground,  however,  did 
upon  the  whole  decline;  and  after  a  weary  time,  and 
many  a  weary  mile,  the  jaded  hunter  at  length  became 
sensible  that  this  interminable  moss  was  intact,  the  re- 
ceptacle of  many  streams  flowing  from  a  number  of  lofty 
eminences  which  bordered  it  on  all  sides.  These  enter- 
ing it  from  various  directions,  tended  by  almost  imper- 
ceptible courses  to  one  or  two  principal  channels,  and  as 
good  luck  would  have  it,  with  one  of  these  did  Tresham 
fortunately  fall  in. 

Speedily  changing  his  course,  he  followed  the  petty 
runlet,  which  in  no  long  space  was  joined  by  others.  He 
found  that  it  gradually  made  its  way  towards  a  chasm, 
obviously  the  outlet  into  some  greater  valley:  what  that 
valley  might  be  he  had  no  means  of  determining,  for 
dark  jutting  eminences  shut  in  the  cleft  below  him,  while 
above  them  nothing  caught  the  eye  but  a  succession  of 
such  country  as  he  had  for  some  hours  been  traversing. 
On  one  hand  only,  he  could  distinguish  dark  gray  and 
purple  peaks  of  nobler  and  more  fantastic  shapes,  which 
seemed  to  tower  to  a  great  height  out  of  this  extensive 
bog. 

The  cleft  or  chasm  b;^  which  he  was  thus  induced  to 
descend,  proved  to  be  of  a  singularly  wild  and  forbidding 
character.  Its  sides  of  black  rock  and  abrupt  gravelly 
scoors,  became  soon  fringed  with  scraggy  birch  and  gray 
Btunted  fir-trees,  rising  reluctantly  from  an  equally  rag- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  77 

ged  undergrowth  of  tangled  heather,  bilberries,  and 
other  mountain  shrubs.  A  black  stream  murmured  deep 
beneath,  flinging  itself  over  many  petty,  but  often  pictu- 
resque cascades.  The  murmur  of  little  rills  rolling  un- 
derground, in  channels  worn  through  the  deep  black 
peat  earth,  frequently  deceived  the  ear  into  the  belief 
that  thunder  was  muttering  at  a  great  distance;  and 
more  than  once  did  Tresham  slip  almost  up  to  the  mid- 
dle among  the  deep  bo^s  through  which  he  was  often 
forced  to  pick  his  way,  in  order  to  avoid  the  precipices 
that  bordered  the  burn. 

He  had  pursued  this  description  of  path  for  a  consider- 
able time,  rapidly  descending,  when  the  scene  at  lensrth 
began  to  assume  a  new  and  different  character.  The 
dell  opened  out  into  a  basin,  to  which  the  eye  at  first  per- 
ceived no  outlet,  for  black  rocks,  sprinkled  with  birch  and 
oak,  protruded  from  either  side,  and  met  in  a  manner 
which  appeared  to  terminate  it  in  his  view.  The  sides 
of  this  basin  were  very  precipitous,  hung  with  shaggy 
wood,  and  descended  sheer  to  a  little  green  bottom 
through  which  the  stream  brawled  away,  after  falling 
into  a  olack  chasm,  where  it  boiled  and  seethed  as  in  a 
caldron.  This  retired  spot  was  plentifully  embellished 
with  oak  and  ash  and  birch,  but  beyond  it,  when  once 
reached,  nothing  further  was  to  be  seen. 

The  steps  of  Tresham  w^ere  arrested  on  the  heathery 
brow  which  overlooked  this  singular  place,  by  the  ex- 
treme difficulty  of  further  progress,  and  he,  for  a  while, 
looked  about  in  vain  for  any  mode  of  descending.  At  his 
feet  was  a  precipice,  which  on  the  one  hand  stretched  to 
the  channel  of  the  burn,  and  on  the  other,  to  a  smaller, 
but  not  less  precipitous  cleft,  which  poured  its  insignifi- 
cant tribute  into  the  reservoir  of  its  neighbour. 

While  the  young  Enghshman  stood  thus  somewhat 
perplexed  by  the  obstacles  which  had  uprisen  in  his  path, 
a  slight  filmy  vapour  ascended  from  a  nook  of  the  basin 
beneath.  "It  is  the  mists  of  evening,  already  called  forth 
from  their  secret  places  by  the  chill  air,"  said  he,  men- 
tally, and  a  shiver  crept  through  his  frame  at  the  un- 
comfortable prospect  for  the  night,  thus  forcibly  brought 
to  his  notice.  Another  glance  arrested  his  attention 
more  strongly,  for  the  connected  upright  eddies  in  which 
the  vapour  continued  to  arise,  suggrested  rather  the  idea 
of  smoke  than  of  mist.  "Can  tliere  be  a  habitation 
here?"  thought  he.  "Some  shepherd,  perhaps,  making 
his  fire  under  a  rock,  to  warm  his  night's  quarters:  let 
us  try  to  find  him  out,  at  all  events."  And  casting  about 
02 


78  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

more  narrowly,  his  eye,  did  by  some  lucky  chance,  hit 
upon  a  slight  track,  like  that  made  by  sheep  or  goats, 
which  led  oya  difficult  and  perilous  course  along-  the 
ledges  of  rock  to  a  certain  point,  and  from  thence  by  a 
series  of  imperfect  and  tortuous  steps,  descended  into  the 
deli. 

Pursuing  his  way  with  a  caution  proportioned  to  his 
ignorance  of  the  place  and  its  apparent  danger,  and  hold-  , 
ing  on  by  heather  roots  and  stunted  birch,  Tresharn  at 
length  reached  the  bottom.  He  now  found  himself  in  a 
very  narrow  and  dark  chasm,  cut  as  it  appeared  by  the 
torrent,  out  of  the  solid  rock.  The  vegetation  here  was 
of  that  rank  but  sparse  character  which  moisture  and 
rich  soil  produces  in  places  excluded  from  much  light  or 
air;  a  small  but  clear  and  sparkling  stream  stole  along 
the  pebbles  at  its  bottom.  Following  its  course  but  for  a 
few  yards,  he  reached  a  spot  occupied  almost  entirely  by 
a  deep  pool,  nearly  hid  from  view  by  overarching  trees, 
around  one  edge  of  which  the  path  wound  by  means  of 
stepping  stones^  The  bottom  of  this  pool,  where  it  could 
be  distinguished,  was  formed  of  round  pebbles  and  white 
gravel,  oVer  which,  at  the  lower  end,  the  water  broke 
away  with  a  gentle  ripple. 

While  gazing  around  him  and  cautiously  picking  his 
way  along  the  stepping  stones  which  had  evidently  been 
placed  there  by  the  hand  of  man,  his  eye  fell  on  certain 
substances  huddled  together  under  the  surface  of  the 
water,  of  a  singular  and  suspicious  appearance — but  the 
thrill  of  doubt  and  almost  of  alarm  which  agitated  his 
mind  for  a  moment,  as  quickly  subsided,  although  the 
sense  of  curiosity  remained  unabated,  on  perceiving  that 
the  objects  in  question  were  sacks  thrown  together  in  a 
corner  of  the  pool.  He  was  about  to  make  some  further 
investigation  into  this  to  him  unaccountable  phenome- 
non, when  the  smothered  growl  of  a  dog,  at  no  great  dis- 
tance, saluted  his  ear,  and  he  resumed  his  way  in  order 
to  discover  where  the  animal  might  be. 

A  few  more  steps  carried  him  to  the  mouth  of  the 
chasm,  and  no  sooner  had  he  reached  it  than  he  became 
aware  of  the  same  thin  column  of  gray  smoke  which  he 
had  seen  from  above,  ascending  from  a  point  in  the  green 
turf,  but  a  few  yards  below  him.  "Ah,  it  is  as  I  thought," 
muttered  he — a  shepherd — where  can  the  fellow  be?" 
and  he  stepped  forward  to  a  slightly  elevated  point  in 
order  to  look  about  him. 

The  stream  found  its  tortuous  way  by  the  bottom  of 
the  rock,  which  rose  but  a  few  feet  distant  in  its  front; 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  79 

and  while  his  fiance  wandered  over  its  rugged  surface, 
the  bright  reflection  of  an  evening  cloucT  sent  a  faint 
gleam  even  down  into  this  recess.  It  fell  upon  a  small 
glittering  point,  thus  rendered  visible  in  the  brown  ex- 
panse, and  Tresham  actually  detected  the  twinkle  of  a 
human  eye  which  seemed  to  peer  out  from  the  rock  itself. 

Starting  at  this  apparition,  our  hunter  directed  a 
keener  look  at  the  spot,  and  his  own  optics  becoming 
now  more  habituated  to  the  darkness  of  the  place,  were 
enabled  to  trace,  first,  the  outline  of  a  human  face,  griev- 
ously begrimed  with  dirt;  and  then  the  person  of  its 
owner,  an  urchin  in  dingy-green  and  purple  tartans, 
who  sat  insconsed  in  a  hollow  of  the  rock,  and  who  fol- 
lowed every  movement  of  the  stranger  Avith  an  eye  that 
was  fixed  on  his. 

"Soho,  my  little  fellow!"  exclaimed  Tresham,  as  soon 
as  he  had  satisfied  himself  of  this  discovery,  "here  with 
you!— What  the  devil  are  you  after  there?"  But  the 
creature,  without  moving  a  muscle,  gave  utterance  to  a 
shrill  whistle,  and  continued  still  gazing  on  the  intruder. 
Tresham  now  stepped  down  from  the  Height  he  had  oc- 
cupied, in  order  to  enforce  a  reply  to  his  appeal;  but  just 
as  he  reached  the  lower  level  of  the  ground,  a  fresh 
growl,  terminating  in  a  loud  angry  bark,  arose  from  be- 
hind, and  in  another  moment  the  animal  which  uttered 
it  burst  forth  from  what  appeared  to  be  the  mouth  of  a 
cavern,  followed  by  a  stout  young  Highlander. 

The  stranger,  though  scarcelyabove  the  middle  size, 
possessed  so  active  and  well-knit  a  form,  that  he  appear- 
ed taller  than  he  really  was.  The  fairness  of  his  com- 
plexion, his  freckled  skin,  and  curhn^  yellow  locks  falling 
from  under  his  smart  blue  bonnet,  might  have  suggested 
the  idea  of  simplicity  if  not  of  silliness,  had  not  the  speak- 
ing keenness  of  his  deep  blue  eye,  and  the  spirit  of  intel- 
ligence which  animated  his  high  features,  contradicted 
the  injurious  impression.  He  wore  the  phelibeg  and 
hose,  and  the  dark  green  and  purple  plaid  which  was 
wrapped  around  his  chest  and  over  his  left  shoulder,  in- 
creased to  formidable  proportions  the  apparent  bulk  of 
his  figure. 

"  'Cuthe-u-neish  Stitmah?''  What  now.  Stutnah,"  said 
the  young  man  in  Gaelic,  casting  an  inquiring  glance 
around,  which  was  succeeded  by  an  expression  of  suspi- 
cion and  alarm,  as  the  person  of  Tresham  caught  his 
eye.  He  started,  grasped  mechanically  the  strong  oaken 
cudgel  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  and  fell  back  a  step 
towards  the  place  from  whence  he  issued,  while  he 


80  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

scanned  the  intruder  with  jealous  look.  The  result  of 
his  scrutiny  was  probably  not  unfavourable:  for  before 
Tresham,  who  had  been  taken  somewhat  by  surprise, 
had  exactly  made  up  his  mind  as  to  the  manner  in  which 
he  should  address  this  unexpected  apparition,  the  High- 
lander, in  the  strong  guttural  accent  of  his  language, 
enunciated  that  pithy  proposition  with  which  his  coun- 
trymen generally  open  the  trenches  of  conversation  with 
all  strangers. 

"It's  aline  nicht!" 

"Good  evening,  friend,"  replied  Tresham.  "Yes;  the 
night  is  well  eno^ugh — a  little  cold  for  the  season." 

"Aye,  could,"  repeated  the  other,  suiting  the  action  to 
the  word,  by  a  shrug  and  a  wriggle  with  his  shoulders. 

"So  cold,"  reiterated  Tresham,  "that  I  should  like 
much  to  be  at  home. — Pray,  my  friend,  can  you  tell  me 
where  I've  ^ot  to,  and  how  I  am  to  get  out  of  this  place?" 

''Bel  Gaelic  akee?  Have  you  any  Gaelic?"  responded 
the  Celt  with  a  question,  as  usual. 

"No,  no,  no  Gaelic,"  said  Tresham,  shaking  his  head. 
"But  you  have  English,  my  friend,  plenty  to  serve  my 
turn." 

"0^^,  ha'niel  accum—0, 1  have  none!"  and  the  asser- 
tion was  accompanied  with  another  shrug,  and  an  em- 
phatic shake  of  the  head. 

Tresham  was  about  to  urge  his  inquiries  in  a  more 
distinct  and  earnest  manner,  when  he  was  interrupted 
by  the  appearance  of  another  person  upon  this  singular 
scene:  it  was  a  young  woman,  who  half  issuing  from  the 
opening  of  the  den,  remained  still  partially  concealed 
within  its  jaws.  The  increasing  gloom,  as  well  as  her  re- 
tiring posture,  rendered  it  impossible  to  distinguish  either 
form  or  feature:  but  Tresham  felt  disposed  to  judge  fa- 
vourably of  both  from  the  musical  tones  of  her  voice,  as 
she  addressed  a  few  words  to  the  young  Highlander. 
Perhaps  the  romantic  nature  of  the  adventure  might 
have  inclined  him  to  invest  any  female  who  should  ap- 
pear to  take  a  part  in  it,  with  extraordinary  attributes. 

"Tcheerach  tcheerach!  Eachan  Horrenareh! — Be 
quiet.  Hector!— take  care!  that's  a  gentleman!" 

The  tone,  rather  than  the  words,  conveyed  to  the 
Englishman's  apprehension  the  conciliatory  character 
of  the  girl's  address;  and  Eachan,  or  Hector,  the  name, 
as  it  seemed  of  the  young  man,  assumed  a  more  courte- 
ous aspect;  while  he  relaxed  his  cautious  reserve,  and 
inquired,  "What  wud  the  gentleman  be  pleased  to 
want?" 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  81 

"I  want,"  replied  Tresham,  "in  the  first  place,  to  un- 
derstand where  I  have  ffot  to;  and  then,  how  I  am  to  get 
away  to  some  house  of  entertainment,  if  such  there  be 
near." 

"And  whare  from  'ill  the  gentleman  be  the  day?"  de- 
manded the  Highlander,  replying,  after  the  fashion  of 
his  countrymen  to  one  question,  by  propounding  another. 

"Why,  I  have  come  from  Glenochree  this  morning, 
and  I  want  to  get  back  there:  but  I've  lost  my  wavin  the 
hill." 

The  young  man  ojDened  wide  his  eyes  at  the  mention 
of  Glenochree,  and  after  a  moment's  pause  he  continued 
his  inquisitorial  examination.  "Ye'll  be  no  young  Mac- 
gilliecullach,  I'm  thinking,"  was  the  next  query. 

"No; — I'm  not  young  Macgilhecullach." 

"Ou,  then  may  be  ye'll  be  the  laird  o'  Drynoch — they 
say  he'll  be  whiles  in  the  hill." 

"No,  my  friend,  I  an  none  of  these; — but  pray  tell  me 
how  far  I  may  be  from  Glenochree?" 

"Ye'll  be  frae  the  south  for  certain,  then?" 

"Yes,  I  am  from  the  south; — but  what  is  that  to  the 
purpose?  Can  you,  or  can  you  not,  show  me  the  way  to 
Auchonrui,  in  Glenochree?" 

"Glenochree?— ou  she's  a  long  bit  awa' — And  ye  left 
Glenochree  the  day?" 

"Yes,  I  tell  you  again,  I  left  the  bothy  at  Auchonrui, 
in  Glenochree — Mr.  Mac — pshah — GlenvallicK's  hunt- 
ing bothy,  this  morning,  and  I  lost  my  way  in  chase  of  a 
deer,"  replied  Tresham,  whose  patience  was  almost  ex- 
hausted, but  who  saw  no  chance  of  obtaining  the  infor- 
mation he  wanted  except  by  humouring  his  inquisitive 
fi-iend.  "Aye — it's  Glenvaliichs,  Glenochree — ou,  ye're 
come  a  long  way  about — yon's  a  far  way  off;"  and  after 
a  pause  of  some  seconds,  during  which  he  examined 
Tresham  again,  but  with  an  air  rather  of  perplexity  than 
of  uneasiness,  he  turned  to  the  young  woman,  who  still 
stood  at  the  door  of  the  cavern,  and  addressed  her  some 
sentences  of  Gaehc.  The  effect  was  to  bring  her  forward, 
and  she  approached  with  an  air  of  modest  timidity, 
which,  however,  partook  in  no  degree  of  awkwardness 
or  shyness. 

"Sir,"  said  she,  intones  which,  though  much  tinctured 
with  the  Highland  brogue,  or  rather  idrawl,  were  musi- 
cal and  pleasing,  "this  laad  has  na  muckle  Enoflish,  and 
I  hae  na  any  great  things  mysel;  but  if  ye'll  plaise  to  tell 
me  what  ye're  seeking,  I'll  do  my  best  to  help  ye." 

"Delighted  at  the  unexpected  appearance  of  a  friend. 


82  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

who  seemed  likely  to  be  more  able  as  well  as  more  will- 
ing  to  assist  him  at  his  need,  Tresham  explained  to  the 
girl  what  he  had  already  soug-ht  to  impress  upon  the 
comprehension  of  her  companion,  intimating  that  he 
would  very  willingly  recompense  any  one  who  should 
guide  him  back  to  the  bothy. 

"Ochone,  sir!"  exclaimed  the  girl,  holding  up  her  hands 
in  amazement,  "and  hae  ye  cum'  a'  that  way  the  da^?  I 
dinna  ken  the  place  my sel,  but  it's  a  long  weary  way  from 
this — that's  sure,  and  ye  must  be  sore  tired. — But  for 
going  back  to  Glenochree  the  nicht,  that's  clean  unpos- 
sable— there's  no  the  lad  in  the  country  that  wud  cross 
the  Moineboglach,  or  put  his  I'ut  on  the  Slievosnaigh 
after  the  sun's  doon,  and  the  mist's  on  the  hill." 

"Well,  my  good  girl — but  what  1  am  to  do?  I  can't 
well  sleep  in  Ihe  heather  all  night.  Is  there  no  place 
near  this  where  I  could  get  a  bed?" 

"Ochone!  no,  sir;  there  is  na  a  house  nor  a  bothy  that 
ye  cud  put  up  at,  nearer  than  tweP  mile,  and  the  road  is 
wild  wild!  and  no  for  the  like  o'  you  to  travel  at  nicht." 

"All  this  is  bad  enough,  my  good  girl;  but  still,  what 
have  I  got  for  it? — twelve  Highland  miles  on  Highland 
roads  would  certainly  be  no  pleasant  appendix  to  my 
day's  fag.  Have  you  no  place  of  shelter? — no  heather 
bed.  where  1  might  rest  for  the  night?  It  would  not  be 
like  Highland  hospitality  to  turn  a  stranger  to  the  hill- 
side after  night-fallj  I  would  pay  for  my  lodging  hand- 
somely." 

'•O,' it's  no  that,  sir! — wewudnawant  that — but — we 
— I  dinna — I  cdinna—E achan — cmghlinu?* — and  she  held 
another  earnest  dialogue  with  Hector. 

The  result  seemed  still  unsatisfactory.  "I  dinna  ken 
in  the  world  Avhat  to  do,"  said  the  young  woman  at 
length,  with  an  expression  of  much  perplexity:  "It's  no 
for  the  like  o'  you  to  get  your  death  sleeping  out  on  the 
muir  this  could  nicht  in  the  mist,  and  a' — and  yet,  Lord 
keep  mel  what  am  I  to  do?  and  again  there  passed  some 
words  between  her  and  the  young  man  in  a  tone  of  great 
animation.  "Weel,  cum' what  may,  I'll  venture  it,"  said 
the  girl  at  length;  "I'am  sure,  sir,  ye're  a  gentleman, 
an'  no  a  person  to  harm  them  who  never  did  ill  to  you. 
Ye  may  see  what  ye  shou'd  na  see,  an'  I  may  get  blame 
for  it;  but  ye  sha'na  hae  to  take  the  hill  to  nicht — ye  shall 
hae  a  warm  bit  to  lie  in,  if  it  be  na  a  grand  one;  and  I'll 
trust  till  ye  that  ye  winna  mak'  me  repent  o'  it — Pe- 

*  Do  you  hear. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  83 

sough*  Eachan — pesough!— come  ye  this  way,  sir;"  and 
moving'  towards  the  mouth  of  the  cavern  from  whence 
ghe  had  made  her  appearance,  she  beckoned  the  young 
Englishman  to  follow. 

It  was  not  without  an  emotion  of  uneasiness,  that 
Tresham,  stooping-  his  head,  followed  his  conductress 
into  the  low-browed  entrance  of  this  singular  domicile. 
Externally,  the  most  curious  inspection  could  scarcely 
have  detected  it  from  the  rock  against  which  it  was 
built,  and  the  turf  by  which  it  was  surrounded.  From 
a  narrow  strip  of  turf,  spotted  with  heather  tufts  and 
bushes,  which  lay  upon  the  ledge  of  a  rock,  a  roof  con- 
sisting- of  rafters  thatched  with  green  divots,  had  been 
so  artificially  extended  to  the  httle  flat  which  bordered 
the  rill  of  water,  as  to  appear  a  continued  prolongation 
of  the  bank  from  the  aforesaid  ledge  even  to  the  edge  of 
the  stream;  and  so  overhung  was  it  by  the  birch  trees 
and  oak  copse  which  had  rooted  themselves  in  the  rocks 
•on  either  side  the  rivulet,  that  had  it  not  been  for  the 
smoke  which  issued  from  an  aperture  under  the  rock, 
the  suspicion  of  Tresham,  or  indeed  of  any  stranger 
would  never  have  been  awakened,  and  he  would  assu- 
redly have  sought  to  pass  onwards  to  the  glen  below, 
without  imaginiii.^  that  the  place  had  ever  been  honoured 
with  a  human  habitation  of  any  description. 

The  almost  palpable  darkness  which  reigned  within 
the  hut  was  no  less  effectual  in  preventing  all  observa- 
tions on  the  part  of  Tresham,  than  the  pungent  smoke 
of  peats  or  w^ood  wdiich  pervaded  the  whole  apartment; 
and  which  at  first,  after  drawing  from  him  a  copious 
flood  of  tears,  forced  him  to  close  his  eyes.  The  dim 
gleamings  of  certain  embers,  half  smothered  in  ashes. 
the  remains  rather  than  the  existing  substance  of  a  fire, 
was  all  that  his  uncertain  glances  could  at  first  discover. 
But  his  conductress,  taking  a  piece  of  moss-pine,  or  can- 
dle-fir as  it  is  called,  lighted  it  at  the  embers,  and  in  a 
moment,  the  bright  blazing  of  the  resinous  wood  threw 
a  flood  of  red  hght  over  the  uncouth  and  singular  apart- 
ment. 

For  a  few  minutes  the  glare  thus  produced  was  no  less 
blinding  to  the  unaccustomed  eyes  of  the  stranger  than 
the  previous  darkness;  but,  after  a  while,  even  the  acrid 
fumes  ol"  the  smoke  became  less  intolerable,  and  Tre- 
sham could  gaze  around  the  place  into  which  he  had  so 
unexpectedly  been  forced  to  intrude. 

*  "Hushl— be  quiet!" 


84  THE  HIGHLAIf  D  SMUGGLERS. 

It  was  of  small  dimensions,  not  exceeding  some  six- 
teen feet  by  twelve;  the  walls  were,  as  it  appeared, 
composed  of  divots,  or  turf  cut  in  square  brick-like  pieces, 
placed  upon  a  low  foundation  of  stones.  Low  as  the 
roof  must  have  been, — for  near  the  entrance  it  did  not 
afford  room  for  a  man  to  stand  upright, — its  black  and 
smoke-japanned  rafters  were  concealed  fron^view  by 
the  wreaths  of  thin  blue  smoke,  which  eddied  among 
them  in  search  of  an  outlet.  In  one  corner,  upon  a  very 
rude  fire-place  filled  with  ashes  of  peat  and  wood,  was 
set  a  copper  caldron  of  large  size,  having  attached  to  it 
the  worm  and  Lisualrude  apparatus  of  a  Highland  whiskey 
still;  and  Tresham,  for  the  first  time,  began  to  compre- 
hend that  he  had  stumbled  upon  a  haunt  of  illicit  dis- 
tillers, and  was  at  that  very  moment  in  company  with  a 
part  of  the  gang. 

A  further  examination  of  the  place  confirmed  this 
suspicion.  Small  well-made  casks,  or  ankers  as  they 
are  called,  for  the  reception  of  the  spirits,  lay  in  corners, 
mingled  with  sacks  of  grain  or  malt.  Quaicks,  cougs, 
and  "leames"  of  sorts,  as  the  various  tubs  and  utensils 
made  use  of  in  the  operations  of  distilling,  are  called  in 
the  Highlands,  were  scattered  about  in  "'most  admired 
disorder;"  a  large  tub  or  steeping  vat  occupied  another 
corner,  and  the  murky  atmosphere  was  loaded  with  the 
steams  of  "pot  ale"  and  whiskey. 

With  a  countenance  not  a  little  discomposed  by  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  questionable  situation  he  had  got  into, 
and  by  the  various  nuisances  which  greeted  his  senses 
on  all  sides,  Tresham  turned  his  eyes  from  a  survey  of 
the  premises,  to  an  examination  of  the  person  of  his  con- 
ductress and  of  her  male  companion,  who  had  followed 
them  into  the  hut.  The  former,  at  least,  was  not  of  a 
description  either  to  excite  his  alarm  or  add  to  his  dis- 
gust. A  rich  growth  of  glossy  light  brown  hair  bound 
round  her  head  in  the  fashion  of  her  country  with  a 
snood  or  riband  of  blue  silk,  proclaimed  her  to  be  as  yet 
a  maiden;  but  its  exuberant  length  was  gathered  up 
and  fastened  in  a  knot  behind,  only  one  or  two  curls,  es- 
caping either  by  chance  or  by  design,  strayed  down  a 
cheelc  and  neck,  which  for  shape  and  polish  might  have 
vied  with  those  of  an  antique  statue.  Her  mild  though 
dark  eye  was  lighted  up  with  a  strong  expression  of 
sense  and  feeling;  and  if  the  brilliancy  of  her  skin  had 
suffered  somewhat  from  exposure  to  the  sun  and  the 
winds  of  her  native  hills,  it  was  set  off  by  the  rich  glow 
of  her  cheeks,  and  the  cherry-like  hue  of  a  mouth  that 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  86 

wore  a  perennial  smile.  Her  person,  more  elegant  and 
slender  than  belongs  in  general  to  persons  of  her  rank, 
was  habited  in  a  short  gown  or  jacket  suited  to  her 
shape:  her  neck  was  covered  with  a  pink  checked  hand- 
kerchief; and  althoush  the  coarse  blue  woollen  petti- 
coat was  but  ill  calculated  to  set  oft" her  figure  to  advan- 
tage, such  was  its  natural  ease  and  grace,  as  she  stood 
holding  on  high  the  flaming  torch  before  her  guest,  that 
Tresham  thought  she  might  have  stood  as  a  model  for 
the  virgin  priestess  of  some  wild  remote  shrine,  rather 
than  for  the  daughter  of  some  lawless  smuggler,  as  in 
all  probability  she  was;  so  foreign  to  the  place  and  the  occu- 
pation of  its  inhabitants  did  this  maiden  of  the  glen  ap- 
pear. 

"This  is  a  wild  place  for  the  like  o'  you,  sir,"  said  the 
girl,  as  she  watched  the  perplexed  expression  of  her 
guest;  "but  it's  a'  we  hae  to  offer:  it's  just  better  than 
the  could  hill-side,  or  a  moss-hag,  and  them,  may  be, 
aside  you,  that  wud  na  be  that  canny.  It's  no  muckle 
we  can  gie  you,  but  ye  sha'na  want  a  fresh  bannock, 
and  warm  milk,  and  a  new-laid  egg;  an'  welcome  ye'll 
be  till  it  if  it  were  better;  and  there's  a  heather  bed  wi' 
blankets  on  it. — Eachan,  hand  the  gentleman  the  whis- 
key—he'll no'  be  the  worse  o'  a  dram  alter  his  walk." 

Tresham  thought  so  too,  and  he  therefore  accepted 
the  profi'ered  hospitality  from  Eachan,  who  speedily 
came  forward  with  a  bottle  of  "mountain  dew,"  and  a 
small  "cajs"  of  dark  wood  with  two  handles.  He  then 
took  his  seat  upon  a  wooden  bench,  ancient  and  dirty 
enough,  placed^  near  the  hearth;  a  few  peats  were 
thrown  on  the  tire  and  fanned  into  a  blaze  by  the  vigor- 
ous application  of  the  young  woman's  petticoat,  by  way 
of  bellows;  after  which  she  issued  forth  on  "hospitable 
thoughts  intent,"  to  busy  herself  in  preparations  for  the 
comfort  of  her  guest,  while  the  young  Highlander,  lean- 
ing his  back  against  one  of  the  wooden  frames  of  the  hut, 
attempted  a  desultory  and  ill-sustained  conversation 
with  the  stranger. 

The  subjects  of  this  imperfect  colloquy  were  of  a  ge- 
neral nature,  calculated  to  afford  little  information  to 
either  party,  and  besides  the  difficulty  of  comprehension 
and  expression  on  both  sides,  there  was  an  evident  con- 
straint upon  that  of  the  young  man,  which  made  it  a  re- 
lief to  Tresham  when  his  hostess  returned  with  the  ma- 
terials of  his  simple  supper.  This  was  soon  served,  and 
eaten  by  the  young  Englishman,  to  the  ^reat  comfort  of 
his  inward  man,  by  the^light  of  the  flammg  candle-fir. 

VOL.  I.  H 


86  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

The  girl  then  showed  Tresham  his  intended  couch, 
a  dark  suspicious  looking  wooden  crib,  in  a  sort  of  inte- 
rior closet,  or  rather  hole,  the  approach  to  which  was 
mysteriously  concealed;  to  which  neither  air  nor  light 
could  reach,  and  where  diogy  yellow  blankets  seemed  to 
threaten  more  of  oppression  than  of  warmth,  and  to  as- 
sure him  who  should  be  rash  enough  to  commit  himself 
to  their  embraces,  that  he  need  not  dread  the  want  of 
society. 

The  aspect  of  this  dormitory  was  so  little  inviting,  that 
Tresham,  notwithstanding  the  stiffness  and  fatigue 
which  now  began  to  oppress  him,  felt  small  disposition 
to  "tempt  the  dangerous  gloom,"  and  preferred  occupy- 
ing his  place,  for  a  while  at  least,  on  the  bench  where 
he  had  hitherto  sat.  The  hours  passed  on;  darkness 
covered  the  earth,  and  Tresham,  who  had  prevailed  on 
his  hosts  to  be  seated,  was  still  maintaining  an  occasion- 
al conversation  with  the  maiden,  when  suddenly,  the 
dog  which  lay  before  the  fire  at  their  feet,  pricked  up  its 
ears,  and  casting  a  suspicious  glance  at  the  door,  uttered 
a  long  uncertain  growl.  "What  the  de'il  ails  the  doug 
noo?''  said  Eachan,  following  its  glance  with  an  uneasy 
eye;  "who'll  be  coming  here  at  this  time  o'  nicht?" 
But  Stumah,  as  suddenly  changing  its  note  to  a  yell  of 
joy,  jumped  up,  bounded  to  the^cloor,  scratched  at  it  till 
it  llew  open,  and  dashed  forth  into  the  darkness.  Ea- 
chan and  the  maiden  regarded  each  other  with  looks  of 
alarmed  surprise;  but,  before  a  word  could  be  uttered,  a 
heavy  step  was  heard  without,  accompanied  by  the  joy- 
ful whine  of  several  dogs.  "  O/t  Yeah!  m\ihcr! — O  God, 
my  father!"  exclaimed  the  girl,  turning  very  pale;  "what 
will  he  say?"  and  as  she  spoke,  the  door  was  pushed 
open,  and  a  tall  bulky  looking  figure  entered,  who  cast 
his  eyes  around  upon  the  company,  and  in  a  deep  angry 
voice  exclaimed,  '' Thannumimdiaul!  cutheh-iL-shin 
neish,  Maarie?^^* 

The  maiden  thus  roughly  addressed,  appeared  both 
dismayed  and  distressed;  but  instantly  rising,  she  ap- 
proached the  intruder,  to  whom  she  spoke  for  some  time 
in  low  earnest  tones  in  Gaelic.  The  man's  replies  were 
rough,  and  his  gestures  strongly  expressiv^e  of  displea- 
sure, and  w^iile  this  dialogue  was  going  on.  Tresham, 
who  had  risen  to  his  feet,  had  time  to  examine  his  person. 

He  was  a  man  of  powerful  frame  and  great  stature, 
whose  figure,  spare  of  flesh,  but  bony  and  athletic,  with 


*    u 


D n!  what's  all  this  now,  Mary?" 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  87 

shoulders  of  enormous  breadth,  indicated  not  only  great, 
but'  long  tried,  bodily  strength.  Dark,  piercing  eyes, 
gleaming  from  under  heavy  lowering  brows,  imparted 
to  features,  stern  and  strongly  marked  by  nature,  an 
expression  of  gloomy  ferocity  which  seemed  incapable 
of  relaxing  into  a  smile.  A  physiognomist  would  at  once 
have  pronounced,  that  calculating  cunning,  selfish  ma- 
lignity, and  dodged  obstinacy,  were  written  in  every 
line  of  his  deepl>'  furrowed  countenance.  His  dark  red, 
sun-burnt  complexion,  and  bushy  whiskers,  changed 
from  their  original  blackness  to  a  grizzled  hue,  proclaim- 
ed alike  the  effects  of  time  and  long-continued  exposure. 
His  head  was  covered  by  a  small  Highland  bonnet,  from 
beneath  which  the  dark  gray  hair  escaped  in  wild  pro- 
fusion. A  jacket  of  well-worn,  coarse  blue  cloth,  with  a 
waistcoat  made  of  deer-skin,  and  a  dark  tartan  phelibeg, 
composed  the  principal  part  of  his  dress;  a  plaid  of  the 
same  stuff  was  wound  round  his  shoulders.  His  sinewy 
le^s,  covered,  like  those  of  an  animal,  with  dark  curly 
hair,  and  bare  for  some  space  above  the  knee,  were 
cased  in  thick  gray  hose,  and  on  his  feet  he  wore  the 
genuine  Highland  brogues.  A  dirk  hung  at  his  waist, 
the  knob  of  a  pistol  peeped  out  from  a  breast-pocket  of 
his  jacket,  and  in  his  hand  he  carried  a  most  formidable 
cudgel.  Suchwasthepersonof  theraanwho  had  enter- 
ed the  bothy, with  an  air  which  at  once  proclaimed  him  as 
the  owner  of  it;  and  Tresham  could  not  help  being  im- 
oreesed  with  the  idea  that  he  had  seldom  seen  so  trucu- 

ent  a  looking  fellow,  nor  one  with  whom  he  should  less 

ike  to  meet  upon  suspicious  ground. 

This  person,  after  a  long  and  energetic  discussion 
with  the  maiden,  whom  he  addressed  by  the  name  of 
Maarie,  or  Mary,  at  length  turned  to  the  young  Eng- 
lishman, and  after  a  vain  effort  at  smoothing  his  brows 
into  something  of  a  more  benignant  expression,  cast  a 
look  at  him,  aslcance,  uttering  at  the  same  time  the  usual 
form  of  salutation. 

"Failte-oreiv'l  Failte-oreiv'!*  Sit  doon— sit  doon." 
It  would  be  unnecessary  to  detail  the  series  of  ques- 
tions which  were  now  put  to  Tresham  by  the  new  comer, 
as  they  w€re  substantially  the  same  which  he  had  al- 
ready replied  to  from  Mary  and  Eachan.  They  were 
proposed  by  him  in  Gaelic;  for  he  either  could  not,  or 
did  not  choose,  to  speak  in  English;  and  interpreted  by 
the  daughter,  who  reconveyed  the  replies  in  the  same 


*  « 


Hail  to  you!"  pronounced  "Failtcherj'!" 


88  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

langnaffe  to  the  questioner.  It  appeared  that  the  old 
man's  doubts,  or  curiosity,  were  at  length  satisfied;  he 
nodded  somewhat  surlily  to  the  girl,  muttered  some 
words  in  no  very  cordial  tone,  which  sent  her  from  the 
room,  and  Tresham  remarked  that  he  then  summoned 
the  little  urchin  of  the  rock,  with  whom  he  retired  for  a 
while  out  of  the  bothy.  It  was  a  circumstance  that 
forced  itselfupon  his  observation,  because  he  remembered 
the  boy —but  he  thought  no  more  of  it  at  the  time — it  was 
subsequent  occurrences  that  brought  the  incident  again 
to  his  recollection. 

The  night  was  now  well  advanced,  and  fatigue  pre- 
vailing over  disgust,  had  sent  Tresham  to  his  unsightly 
couch.  He  had  even  fallen  into  a  sound  slumber  of  some 
duration,  when  the  noise  of  several  persons  entering  the 
bothy,  and  the  sound  of  their  voices  speaking  in  no  gentle 
key,  made  him  start  up  in  his  lair  and  gaze  around  him. 
All  was  dark  as  pitch;  he  could  not  immediately  recol- 
lect where  he  was;  and  he  might  have  imagined  that 
the  alarm  he  had  received  was  only  the-efFect  ofadream, 
had  not  the  voices  still  continued  to  force,  themselves  on 
his  attention.  They  were  loud  and  stormy;  one  in  par- 
ticular there  was,  which  spoke  with  clamorous  volubility. 
The  softer  voice  of  the  maiden  too  was  heard,  in  tones 
of  entreaty  and  remonstrance;  and  the  surly  accents  of 
the  old  man  might  occasionally  be  distinguished  in  the 
dialogue. 

Moved  not  less  by  a  feeling  of  anxiety  than  ofcurioeity, 
Tresham  was  meditating  to  come  forth  and  learn  the 
cause  of  the  disturbance,  from  personal  observation; 
but  a  prudent  uneasiness,  as  to  the  possible  consequences 
of  a  rash  step,  occasioned  him  to  hesitate;  and  before 
he  could  determine  on  the  best  course  to  pursue,  the 
door  of  his  cell  flew  open,  and  the  light  of  a  torch  flash- 
ed strongly  on  his  face,  displaying  to  his  dazzled  eyes 
the  persons  of  some  half-dozen  fierce-looking  men,  who 
instantly  advanced  towards  him. 

"Thannura-mundiaoul!  Tamnation!  who  the  de'il's 
this,"  was  the  salute  of  a  short  squat  fellow,  with  a  head 
of  fierce  red  curling  hair,  and  a  great  crimson  nose,  clad 
in  the  rough  jacket  and  trousers  of  a  seaman — "an  of- 
fisher?  agauger,  is  she?  Halloo  man!  let  a  body  ken  who 
you  are,  or,  tamnation!  she  may  get  a  dirk  in  her  wame!" 

Confounded  at  so  rude  an  address,  and  still  struggling 
with  sleep,  Tresham  was  at  a  loss  how  to  reply  to  his 
insolent  and  impatient  questioner.  He  gazed  at  the  man 
for  some  seconds — then  cast  his  eyes  over  the  group 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  89 

which  had  gathered  behind  him,  perhaps  in  search  of 
some  friendly  face;  for  even  the  constrained  civihty  of 
the  young  Highlander,  and  the  still  more  questionable 
forbearance  of  the  surly  old  one,  were  preferable  to  the 
lowering-  faces  and  threatening  aspects  by  which  he  was 
now  confronted.  But  Tresham  was  not  a  man  to  be 
daunted  by  angry  words  or  stern  faces;  and  soon  re- 
covering from  his  temporary  perplexity,  he  returned 
their  insolent  address  by  a  haughty  look,  and  demanded 
who  they  were,  and  what  they  wanted  with  him. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  intrusion?  what  is  your 
purpose  by  such  rudeness? — My  name  is  Tresham,  I  am 
an  officer  in  the  army;  I  have  lost  my  way  in  the  hill, 
while  hunting,  and  came  by  mere  accident  to  this  place. 
I  was  hospitably  received  by  those  I  found  here,  and 
why  you  should  attack  me  thus,  I  cannot  conceive.  I  nei- 
ther know  you,  nor  ever  dreamt  of  injuring  you.  lam 
no  ganger  nor  excise  officer,  if  it's  that  you  are  afraid  of, 
and  I  only  wait  till  morning  to  leave  the  place  with  thanks 
to  its  owners  for  the  kindness  they  have  shown  me." 

"O  tamnation!"  saidth*  same  fellow,  "it's  fine  talking, 
but  it  wunna  do,  man!  we  ken  nothing  o'  you  or  your 
fine  speeches;  but  out  o'  this  ye  most  go  this  very  minat 
— ye're  ow'r  long  already,  whare  ye  had  no  business  to 
be;  we  dinna  want  fouk  o'  your  stamp  here,  to  see  what 
they  shud  na'  me,  and  tell  what  they  shud  na'  tell.  Up 
man,  up  wi'  yfe." 

"And  pray  who  may  you  be,  fellow,  w^ho  take  upon 
you  to  insult  another  man's  guest?  is  this  Highland  cour- 
tesy or  hospitality?  a  way,  and  let  me  rest,"  said  Tresham 
with  mingled  indignation  and  surprise. 

"Na,  faith  I,  man;  ye've  had  your  share  o'  rest  the 
night,  and  more  ye  need  na  seek,  for  ye'll  no  get  it — 
what!  ye  want  to  stay  here  till  we  hae  a'  thon  black 
Glenvallich's  men  up9n,us  seeking  after  ye,  diaoulf  eh? 
Rise  up,  out  o'  that  this  minat  if  ye  wudiia  hae  coarse 
haundling,  troick-conhitil  orst" 

A  forward  movement  of  the  ruffian  was  now  antici- 
pated by  Tresham,  who  spruns:  from  the  crib  to  stand 
upon  his  guard.  "What  the  devil  do  you  mean?  Do 
you  intend  to  murder  me?"  exclaimed  he,  casting  his 
eyes  about  for  some  weapon  to  defend  himself 

"Na.  na— de'il  abit.  man— de'il  abit.  Just  baud  yere 
srab,  and  get  ready  wi'  ye,  and  fint  a  flea  o'  harm  will  ye 
get;  but  out  o'  that  ye  man  cum',  or  we  most  haul  ye. 
So  bear  a  han'  man— bear  a  han',  ye've  a  long  way  to 
travel  afore  day-licht." 
h2 


90  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

"Travel?  why,  what  the  deuce  are  ye  going  to  do  with 
me  then?  Have  a  care!  this  is  not  a  country  where 
strangers  can  be  outraged  with  impunity.  I  am  the  friend 
and  guest  of  Mr.  Mac  Alpine  of  Glenvaliich;  and  depend 
upon  it,  if  any  thing  comes  over  me,  he  will  not  rest  till 
he  discovers  the  perpetrators,  and  you  may  be  assured 
of  punishment." 

"Hoot-toot— tamnation!  haud  yere slack,  man.  What's 
the  foolish  body  jawing  about?  Here,  Galium,  creiss- 
orst,  (be  quick,")  said  he  impatiently  to  one  of  the  rest; 
and  rushing  forward  at  the  word,  in  a  moment  they  over- 
powered the  struggles,  disregarding  the  remonstrances, 
of  Tresham,  bound  his  arms  above  the  elbows  behind 
his  back,  tied  a  thick  cloth  or  handkerchief  about  his 
eyes,  and,  thus  pinioned  and  blinded,  hoisted  him  up  in 
a  twinkling,  and  bore  him  from  the  closet,  through  the 
outer  room  of  the  bothy,  into  the  open  air. 

As  he  passed  through  the  apartment,  he  could  distin- 
guish in  the  uproar  the  suppressed  sobs  of  a  female;  and 
a  voice,  which  he  thought  resembled  that  of  the  gloomy 
old  Highlander,  addressed  ta  him  these  words: — "Be 
silent  and  peaceable,  and  you  will  meet  with  no  harm. 
As  ye  love  your  life,  attempt  not  to  move  the  cloth  from 
your  eyes;  and  fail  not  to  do  w^hatever  you  are  bid,  or 
evil  will  surely  befall  you."  The  necessity  of  compliance 
had  already  been  made  apparent  to  the  young  English- 
man; and  he  resolved  to  act  the  prudent  rfert,  to  be  vigi- 
lant and  observant,  but  to  avoid  fruitlessly  exasperating 
the  desperadoes  into  whose  power  he  had  fallen,  and  to 
trust  to  the  natural  course  of  events  for  an  explanation 
of  the  singular  treatment  he  was  experiencing,  and  a 
knowledge  of  those  to  whom  he  was  indebted  for  it. 

Immediately  on  passing  the  low  doorway,  through 
which  he  was  rather  dragged  than  carriecl,  Tresham 
felt  himself  hurried  along  within  irregular  motion,  and 
soon  perceived  that  his  bearers  were  ascending  a  steep 
and  rugged  path.  The  ascent,  of  no  great  length,  was 
succeeded  by  an  equally  rough,  and  even  more  precipi- 
tous descent;  during  which  it  was  sufficiently  clear, from 
the  constant  energetic  exclamations  and  expletives  in 
Gaelic,  the  frequent  change  of  hands,  the  stumbling  and 
even  rude  shocks  and  thumps  which  their  unlucky  bur- 
then received,  that  the  bearers  had  difficulty  enough  in 
performing  their  task. 

At  length  they  seemed  to  reach  a  more  level  spot,  and 
Tresham  was  placed  upon  his  feet.  An  order  was  now 
impatiently  given  in  Gaelic,  by  the  person  who  had  acted 


THE   HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  91 


• 


as  principal  in  the  abduction:  the  tread  of  a  beast  was 
heard;  and  Tresham  found  himself  very  unceremoniously 
hoisted  upon  an  animal,  probably  of  the  genus  equus, 
covered  with  certain  sacks  or  plaids  by  way  of  saddle. 
His  feet  were  thrust  into  loops  of  birchen  ropes  or  wi- 
thies, instead  of  stirrups,  and  no  sooner  had  his  person 
been  thus  disposed  of,  than  he  heard  the  same  officious 
leader  utter  the  word,  ''Pefallu — PefalluP'^  upon  which 
the  beast  began  to  move  onwards  at  a  rapid  pace,  along: 
a  path  which,  thoucfh  rough  and  irregular,  appeared 
hard  and  practicable  enough. 

That  the  general  disposition  of  their  course  was  to 
ascend,  sometimes  rapidly,  at  others  more  gradually, 
was  easily  perceived  by  the  unwilling  traveller;  and  such 
did  it  continue  for  a  full  hour,  during  which  little  passed 
between  his  conductors,  and  that  little  in  a  tone  scarcely 
above  a  whisper:  so  that  Tresham,  on  whose  eyes  the 
bandage  remained  so  close  as  effectually  to  pre^ent  all 
exercise  of  vision,  was  perfectly  unable  to  guess  how 
many  of  his  rufhan  guards  continued  to  attend  him.  After 
that  period,  the  young  Englishman  became  sensible  that 
the  nature  of  the  ground  had  altered.  The  hoofs  of  the 
animal  no  longer  struck  sharp  on  the  hard  gravel,  and  that 
they  occasionally  stuck  deep  in  the  soft  or  mossy  ground 
over  which  they  were  passing,  was  very  perceptible. 

Advancing-  still  further,  their  progress  became  obvi- 
ously more  laborious,  and  the  way  more  intricate;  for 
the  little  animal  would  occasionally  stop  for  a  space,  and 
a  struggle  or  a  leap  was  necessary  to  extricate  it  from 
its  diffic^ult  position;  and  at  such  times  a  few  hurried  sen- 
tences were  commonly  interchanged  between  his  guides. 
On  one  of  these  occasions  he  felt  the  animal  he  rode  sink 
completely  under  him  in  the  bog,  a  fact  which  was  not 
less  confirmed  by  the  execrations  elicited  by  his  conduc- 
tors, than  by  the  still  more  substantial  proof  of  finding  his 
own  legs  immersed  in  water  half  way  to  the  knee.  In  one 
moment,  however,  he  was  hfted  l>om  off  the  floundering 
beast  to  a  dry  spot,  where,  being  held  securely  until  the 
steed  was  extricated,  he  was  once  more  remounted. 

Much  time  was  consumed  in  this  way.  Sometimes 
their  progress  was  rapid,  at  others  laborious  and  slow, 
over  ground  which  must  have  been  exceedingly  difficult 
and  intricate.  During  this  long  and  tedious  march,  Tre- 
sham more  than  once  attempted  to  address  his  guides; 
but  his  appeals  either  met  with  utter  inattenlfon,  or 

*  "Go  onl"  or  "be  off  with  you!" 


92  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

called  forth  a  stern  emphatic  injunction  in  Gaelic,  or  very 
indiflerent  English,  to  hold  his  tongue,  and  mind  his  own 
business. 

At  length  our  traveller  became  aware  that  morning 
had  begun  to  dawn:  for  the  veil  which  in  darkness  had 
formed  a  perfectly  effectual  screen,  was  not  so  utterly 
impenetrable  to  the  light  of  day;  besides  which,  it  had 
been  partially  displaced  by  the  violent  jerks  and  shocks 
which  he  had  endured  upon  the  journey,  so  that  a  tole- 
rably decided  glimmer  contrived  to  make  way  through  its 
thicfc  folds.  Nothing,  however,  could  he  see,  beyond  a 
glimpse  of  the  shoulder  of  the  animal  he  rode,  or  of  the 
gray  moss  and  brown  heather  over  which  they  were 
making  their  way. 

The  approach  of  morning  made  no  speedy  change  in 
the  condition  of  Tresham.  Three  hours  had  elapsed 
since  it  dawned,  and  more  than  seven  from  the  time  of 
their  leaving  the  bothy;  they  had  climbed  more  than  one 
weary  height,  and  descended  several  corresponding  hol- 
lows, when  all  at  once  the  man  who  led  the  sheltie 
checked  the  animal,  and  it  stood  still.  The  words, 
''Courru-vaan  shin-eh — Put  him  doon  there!"  were 
heard  in  the  voice  of  the  principal  ruffian,  and  the  com- 
mand was  instantly  obeyed.  A  few  words  more  of  Gae- 
lic passed  between  his  attendants,  and  the  departing 
footsteps  of  the  pony  conveyed  to  Tresham  the  informa- 
tion that  the  animal  was  led  away.  The  ligatures  which 
bound  his  arms  were  next  unloosed,  and  a  voice  close  to 
his  ear  uttered  these  words  in  tolerable  English:— "If  ye 
v>'ant  not  a  bullet  through  your  brain,  touch  not  the  hand- 
kerchief on  your  eyes.  Do  not  turn  nor  move,  until  you 
get  orders  to  do  so.  If  ye  seek  yere  way  home,  follow 
your  nose  as  soon  as  ye  get  leave,  and  go  straight  for- 
ward. All  then  was  still,  and  Tresham  remained  for  a 
minute  motionless  on  the  spot  where  he  stood,  as  he  had 
been  bidden  to  do.  He  could  endure  it  no  longer;  raising 
his  arms,  which  were  stiff  from  the  numbing  effects  of 
the  ligatures,  he  tore  the  bandage  from  his  brow  and 
gazed  around  him.  His  eyes,  dazzled  with  the  sudden 
glare,  could  scarce  distinguish  objects;  but  so  far  as  they 
were  to  be  trusted,  no  one  was  to  be  seen.  It  was  after 
a  considerable  time,  passed  in  thus  gazing  about,  that  at 
length  he  detected  the  motionless  ifigure  and  dirty  face 
of  the  urchin  whose  sharp  black  eyes  had  betrayed  him, 
as  he  watched  at  the  bothy  on  the  preceding  night. 

"Oho!  mv  lad — you're  there!  I'll  have  you  at  least," 
exclaimed  Tresham;  and  he  made  a  spring  to  catch  the 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  93 

boy.  But  quicker  than  lightning,  the  little  statue  sprung 
into  life  and  motion,  and  bounding  up  the  brae  face  like 
a  wild  cat,  with  a  shrill  cry  disappeared  over  its  brow, 
before  his  pursuer  had  well  got  to  his  speed.  On  reach- 
ing the  top,  Tresham  threw  a  hasty  look  in  the  direction 
he  had  taken,  but  no  one  was  visible,  nor  was  there  a 
single  hving  creature  of  any  description  to  be  discovered 
among  the  gray  crags  and  broken  ground  which  covered 
the  steep  descent  beneath. 

Tresham  rubbed  his  eyes  in  amazement — "Where  in 
the  name  of  wonder  can  they  have  all  got  to?  are  they 
bubbles  of  the  earth  or  air,  like  the  witches  of  Macbeth? 
and  have  they  sunk  into  its  bowels,  or  fled  upon  the  wings 
of  the  wind?  But  where's  the  use  of  inquiring?  I  have 
got  off,  after  all,  better  than  I  expected.  It  is  a  strange 
adventure,  faith;  well,  let  me  see — which  is  my  way? 
Follow  my  nose,  said  the  fellow;  well,  but  I  have  lost  my 
bearing's  like  a  fool,  in  pursuing  a  shadow,  and  how  am 
I  to  fin^  them?" 

He  turned  to  look  around  him,  and  observed  lying  on 
the  ground,  where  he  had  thrown  it,  the  bandage  which 
had  covered  his  eyes.  With  greater  deliberation  he 
went  up  to  the  spot,  and  to  his  surprise,  as  well  as  his 
satisfaction,  saw  close  to  the  spot  where  he  had  been 
standing,  the  rifle  and  shooting  geer,  which  on  the  pre- 
ceding ev^ening  he  had  thrown  off' in  the  bothy,  when  he 
retired  to  bed.  "Strange,"  he  mentally  exclaimed;  "the 
villains  are  not  thieves,  at  least — they  have  not  even 
made  me  pay  for  my  lodging." 

Onpickmg'up  the  bandage  he  recognised  it  for  the 
handkerchief  which  he  had  observed  on  the  preceding 
evening  round  the  neck  of  the  young  woman,  his  first 
hostess.  He  remembered  her  kindness,  her  alarm,  and 
her  distress, — for  that  the  sounds  of  distress  he  had  heard 
while  dragged  from  the  bothy  had  proceeded  from  her, 
he  could  not  doubt — in  contrast  with  the  rough  usage  he 
had  met  with  from  the  gang,  with  which  she  seemed  to 
be  so  strangely  connected;  and  with  an  emotion  of  grati- 
tude, and  even  of  tenderness,  he  folded  it  np  and  put  it 
in  his  pocket.  "And  now  for  Glenochree  and  Auchon- 
rui,"  said  he,  as  placing  himself  as  nearly  as  possible  in 
the  same  position  as  that  in  which  he  had  been  left  by 
his  rude  guides,  he  took  their  advice,  and  "followed  his 
nose"  down  the  hill. 

The  ground  before  him  presented  but  the  same  ex- 
panse of  gray  moss,  interspersed  with  ridges  of  dark  rock 
and  heather,  which  was  the  characteristic  description  of 


94  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

the  country,  and  possessed  no  peculiar  feature  which 
might  impress  it  on  the  memory.  But  on  crossing  one 
of  the  heights  in  front  of  him,  and  which  bounded  his 
view  in  tiiat  quarter,  his  eyes  were  greeted  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  certain  remarkable  and  familiar  peaks.  He 
was  still  endeavouring  to  recall  the  exact  lay  of  the  coun- 
try, in  order  to  fix  his  own  position,  and  by  the  land- 
marks in  view  to  shape  a  homeward  course,  when,  as 
with  more  assured  steps  he  was  beginning  to  descend 
the  slope  below  him,  he  descried  two  persons  advancing, 
in  a  direction  to  meet  him.  "Shepherds,  no  doubt," 
thought  Tresham— "they  will  at  all  events  tell  me  ex- 
actly where  I  am,  and  direct  me  how  to  proceed  for  the 
bothy  of  Auchonrui;"  and  he  mended  his  pace,  and  hal- 
looed to  attract  their  attention  as  he  drew  nigh.  His 
surprise  and  satisfaction  may  easily  be  conceived,  when 
he  recognised  in  the  supposed  shepherds,  the  persons  of 
Duncan  Maccombich,  the  forester,  and  his  sturdy  assist- 
ant, Kenneth. 

Their  astonishment  and  joy  were  at  least  equal  to  that 
of  the  young  Englishman.  "The  Lord  bless  and  preserve 
us  a',  IS  it  your  honour's  seP?  Ochone,  what  has  cum 
ou'r  ye,  sir — and  whare  hae  ye  been,  for  mercy's  sake, 
a'  the  long  nicht?"  was  Duncan's  exclamation,  articu- 
lated in  tones  of  real  emotion. 

"Why,  faith,  my  good  fellow,"  replied  Tresham, 
"that's  more  than  I  can  tell  you;  it  is  me,  sure  enough, 
but  where  I  have  been,  or  what  has  come  over  me,  I 
really  cannot  exactly  say."  The  forester  looked  per- 
plexed; but  habitual  taciturnity  and  respect  kept  his 
mouth  shut  for  awhile.  "And  pray,  Duncan,  what  hill 
is  this  we're  in  now?  Surely  we're  not  far  from  Gleno- 
chree?" 

"Ou  no,  no,  sir,  thon's  Beinfoineart,  we're  seeing  fore- 
nent  us;  that's  where  ye  killed  the  first  deer,  yestreen, 
and  this  is  part  o'  the  Moimefaisach,  that  runs  wast 
never  so  far;  but  hoo'  ye  cam'  to  be  here,  sir,  and  never 
a  one  o'  us  to  ken  o'  it,  passes  me  to  understand." 

"Why,  faith,  it's  more  than  I  can  well  understand  my- 
self, man;  but  how  do  you  come  here?  and  what  became 
of  you,  last  night;  surely,  you  did  not  lose  yourself,  too?" 

"It's  no'  in  this  country  that  I'm  like  to  lose  my  way, 
sir,"  replied  the  forester,  with  a  somewhat  contemptuous 
smile,  ''there's  no'  a  craig,  nor  a  stone,  nor  a  heather 
know,  let  abe  a  lump  o'  a  hill,  that  I  hae  na  the  mark  o', 
late  or  early,  nicht  or  day.  Black  wud  need  to  be  the 
mist  that  wud  set  me  wrong  in  the  Mounefaisach,  or  the 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  95 

hills  o'  Clenochree,  wide  as  they  are.  No,  no;  when  1 
staid  to  break  the  deer  that  ye  shot,  sir,  on  the  side  o' 
Beinfoineart,  I  thocht  to  see  you  from  the  hill  top,  and 
to  catch  you,  afore  ye  got  to  the  moss  at  the  bottom;  but 
I  cud  na'  get  sicht  o'  you;  and  no'  a  craig  nor  a  scoor  in 
ten  miles  round,  I'm  sure,  but  I  was  at  the  top  o'  it;  but 
the  nicht  was  falling  fast,  and  nothing  cud  I  see — an'  I 
was  sore  at  a  loss,  sir,  when  I  met  wi'  Kenny,  here,  cum 
a'  the  way  from  the  Slivosnaig,  that's  bewast  the  Mou- 
nefaisach,  and  he  had  lost  you  too.  So  we  thocht  ye 
most  be  back  to  the  bothy,  for  ye  wud  never  be  out  the 
nicht,  surely;  and  off  we  set,  and  black  ni^^ht  it  was  'ore 
we  got  there — but  blacker  still,  when  we  did  na  find  your 
honour;  and  Kenny,  here,  was  wild  about  what  cud  hae 
cum  ow'r  you — and  for  me,  I  cud  na  think  o'  sleep  or 
rest,  an'  no  knowing  if  ye  was  weel  or  ill,  for  there's 
many  a  moss  and  many  a  craig  in  thae  hills  that's  no 
canny;  and  I  said  to  Kenny,  I  canna  hae  ease  till  I  ken 
the  worst  o'  it.  'Nor  I  neither,'  says  Kenny;  so  off  we 
just  started,  him  by  Scoorevialach  and  the  black  corry, 
and  I  went  higher  up,  to  cum  in  by  Beinfoineart  foot — 
and  it's  no  an  hour  since  we  met  on  its  side.  God  be 
praised,  we  have  found  ye  in  life,  sir;  but  was  ye  reely 
a'  the  nicht  in  the  hill,  and  never  a  plaid  to  put  about  you? 
Oh!  how  did  ye  get  through  it,  sir?" 

"Why,  no,  Duncan;  many  thanks  for  your  kind  intent, 
but  I  certainly  did  not  sleep  in  the  hill— in  truth,  I  have 
had  very  little  sleep  since  we  parted.  I  have  a  very 
strange  story  to  tell  you — stranger  than  I  ever  expected 
to  hear  of  in  this  quiet  country."  And  Tresham  in  his 
turn  related  to  the  foresters  the  whole  of  his  adventures, 
from  the  time  he  parted  with  Kenneth.  To  all  this  Mac- 
combich  listened  with  an  air  of  the  keenest  interest;  and 
little  as  he  was  in  the  habit  of  giving  way  to  his  feelings, 
he  could  not  repress  sundry  symptoms  of  surprise  as  the 
young  Enghshman  proceeded  with  his  narrative.  He 
put  many  questions,  with  a  view  to  ascertain  the  exact 
course  pursued  by  Tresham  in  his  approach  to  the  whis- 
key bothy,  and  to  determine  the  time  he  had  consumed 
in  reaching  it,  from  the  spot  where  he  had  separated 
from  Kenneth.  The  whole  adventure  and  its  result 
seemed  utterly  to  confound  him. 

'"Diaoul!"  exclaimed  he,  half  musing,  "he  canna  surely 
hae  been  wast  a'  the  Avay  to  the  Moineboglach.  and  the 
braes  o'  Glen  Shlichard?  And  yet,  where  on  this  side 
o'  it,  cud  he  find  what  he  seed  last  nicht?" 

"Glen  Shlichardl"  exclaimed  Kenneth,  to  whom  this 


96  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

appeal  seemed  in  some  sort  to  have  been  addressed, 
''Lord,  man!  that's  no  possible,  Glen  Shlichard's  thirty 
good  miles  from  this  bit,  if  it's  a  yard.  Ou  no,  that  can- 
na  be." 

"Weel,  but  where  wud  he  find  a  whiskey  still  like  yon, 
nearer  this  way?"  retorted  Duncan;  "and  weel  div'  1  ken 
o'  more  dens  than  one  in  the  braes  o'  Glen  Shlichard  like 
the  one  Mr.  Tresham  has  tould  us  o'.  There's  one  in 
the  Aultrian,  but  it  cudna'  be  that,  for  that's  on  the  other 
side  o'  the  glen;  then  there's  the  Slochd-uaine,  that's  in 
the  Ault  na  feh,  where  the  water  sheds  from  the  Moine- 
boglach — it's  just  such  a  hole:  weel  did  I  ken  it  once." 

'•The  Moineboglach?"  repeated  Tresham;  "I  think 
that  was  a  place  Iheard  named  by  those  in  the  bothy — 
but  I  have  no  great  ear  for  Gaelic,  so  I  may  have  been  mis- 
taken. But  what  could  be  the  meaning  of  their  strange 
conduct  to  me?  what  could  there  be  in  my  appearance  to 
excite  their  suspicion?  Surely  they  could  not  have  sup- 
posed me  an  exciseman,  after  what  I  said  to  the  con- 
trary?" 

"Weel,  sir,"  replied  Duncan,  after  a  deliberate  pause 
— "it's  no'  just  easy  to  say  what  they  thocht,  they  dinna 
always  trust  fair  words;  an'  if  they  got  to  a  houff,  they 
dinna  like  to  be  kenned  o' — many  a  one  there  is  there — 
they  may  be  thocht  it  dangerous  to  let  ye  out  wi'  your 
eyes  open.  If  they  had  thocht  you  an  exciseman,  odd 
they  wud  hae  clodded  ye  ow'r  the  black  linn,  I  doubt. 
But  there's  few  of  the  real  Glenshlichard  lads  that  wud 
hae  behaved  yon  way  to  the  like  o'  you.  There  was  one 
once — but  the  Lord  only  kens  whare  he  may  be  now — 
that  ^vudna  hae  stinted  nor  stayed  muckle,  at  any  wild 
work;  but  surely  it  cudna  be  him.  What 'n  alike  face, 
sir,  did  ye  say  the  ould  man  had — was  he  a  tall,  black, 
weel-faured,  fierce  looking  chap?" 

T  resham  again  described  the  appearance  of  the  person 
who  had  disturbed  his  comfort  at  the  whiskey  bothey, 
adding,  that  though  tall  no  doubt,  he  stooped  so  much  as 
to  appear  more  remarkable  for  bulk  than  height;  and 
that  he  was  a  gloomy,  dodged;  ill-looking  villain. 

The  forester  shook  his  head.  "No,  no,"  said  he,  mus- 
ing, "it  canna  be  him; and  yet,  after  all,  who  can  tell?  it's 
many  a  year  syne — time,  and  trouble,  and  evil  doings, 
may  hae  wrought  sore  changes.  I'm  muckle  changed 
from  yon  time  mysel.  But  sorely,  sorely,  must  the  lads 
o'  yon  wild  glen  be  altered,  'ore  they  wud  forget  their 
manners,  an'  use  a  gentleman  as  they  hae  done  you, 
sir." 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  97 

"Why,  Duncan,  you  seem  to  know  the  place  and  the 
people  wondrous  well;  how  happens  this?  I  thoug-ht 
you  were  a  sober,  well  conducted  man;  how  do  you  come 
then  to  know  any  thing  about  such  a  lawless  set  as  you 
speak  of?" 

"Trouth,  sir,  ye  may  wonder.,  and  it's  a  long  tale,  and 
no  worth  the  telling,  may  be;  but  sure  eneugh  I  kenned 
them  weel  once;  and  it's  no  to  say  they  wiid  na  have 
been  uncevil;  but  they  wud  hae  put  the  best  in  their 
aught  afore  any  stranger,  forby  a  gentleman  that  chanc- 
ed to  come  their  way,  unless  he  were  a  guager,  or  cut- 
ter's-man,  or  a  riding  offisher;  and  even  then  it  wud  hae 
been  let  be  for  let  be,  and  a  good  glass  of  uiskabeh,  no 
doubt,  and  as  much  pot-ale  as  wnd  set  them  sound 
asleep.  It's  a  new  fashion  this,  but  they're  fear'd,  they're 
fear'd — the  riding  offishers  hae  been  vicious,  they  say,  of 
late,  and  the  lads  are  getting  desperate." 

"Why,  MaccombicTi,  you're  positively  getting  elo- 
quent, and  warm  on  the  subject,  and  that  is  a  wonder  in 
a  man  of  your  coolness.  I'm  afraid  we  shall  find  you 
more  interested  than  you  hke  to  confess  in  this  business: 
you  seem  to  have  a  strong  hankering  after  the  trade 
yet." 

•''The  Lord  forbid,"  replied  the  forester,  earne:?tJy;  "it 
has  cost  me  far  ow'r  dear  already — its  a  trap  till  our  feet, 
and  a  snare  in  our  path;  but  I'm  free  o'  it,  thank  God— 
I'm  free  o'  it.  longsyne." 

"It  seems  to  have  been  a  bad  business  then  for  you, 
Duncan,  if  I  am  to  judge  by  your  expressions;  some  time 
or  other  I  must  hear  the  story  of  your  brewing  exploits; 
but  at  present  I  suspect  we  must  quicken  our  pace  home- 
wards^." 

"Aye,  sir,  and  it's  a  long  way;  an'  ye  canna  but  want 
rest  and  meat,  after  such  a  dav's  work  and  a  nicht's  trou- 
ble." 

The  subject  did  indeed  appear  to  have  warmed  the 
worthy  Duncan  out  of  his  habitual  taciturnity;  for  he 
was,  on  most  occasions,  grave,  silent,  dignified,  combin- 
ing in  his  dispositions  and  deportment,  much  of  the  as- 
tute and  !?agacious  Hio-hlander,  with  the  orderly,  respect- 
ful, and  promptly  obedient  soldier;  of  the  devotion  cf  the 
clansman,  with  the  pride  which  characterizes  the  ma- 
jority of  his  countrymen.  This  unnatural  excitement  of 
the  forester's  was  by  no  means  lost  on  Tresham,  who, 
full  of  hi.=5  late  adventure,  and  anxious  to  investigate  the 
nature  and  causes  of  so  singular  a  state  of  things  in  an 
otherwise  orderly  countryj  resolved,  if  possible,  not  only 

VOL.  I.  I 


98  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

to  make  it  a  subj  ect  of  inquiry ,  bu  t  to  press  into  the  service 
upon  this  occasion,  all  the  information  that  might  be 
gathered  from  the  forester,  whenever  a  fit  opportunity 
should  present  itself. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HIGHLAND  SMUGGLING. 

"A  rude  and  lawless  horde." 

On  the  succeeding  morning,  Tresham,  accompanied 
by  the  forester,  quilted  the  bothy,  and  repaired  to  Inver- 
allich  castle,  where  his  adventure,  when  known,  pro- 
duced a  sensation  proportioned  in  liveliness  to  the  mo- 
notonous tranquillity  which  it  interrupted.  In  the  coun- 
try, particularly  in  a  remote  Highland  neighbourhood, 
the  value  of  an  adventure,  an  event,  can  only  be  properly 
appreciated  by  those  who  live  in  the  dull  security  and 
sleepy  comforts  of  such  locahties — who  rise  each  morn- 
ing, breakfast,  dine,  and  sup,  and  go  to  bed  at  night  in 
the  same  unvarying  routine,  uninterrupted  save  by  a 
change  of  weather,  the  arrival  of  a  letter,  a  periodical 
dinner  of  the  neighbours,  or  such  important  domestic 
incidents  as  the  entrance  into  this  sublunary  scene  of  a 
brood  of  chickens;  or  an  addition  to  the  dairy  establish- 
ment in  the  birth  of  a  calf.  For  two  or  three  fleeting 
months  of  the  year,  indeed,  tempted  by  the  brief  beauty 
of  early  autumn,  the  excellent  roads  which  now  pervade 
those  tracks,  heretofore  impervious,  and  the  good  High- 
land cheer  seasoned  with  "Highland  welcome,"  which 
still  distinguishes  the  "land  of  the  mountain  and  the 
flood,"  our  southern  neighbours,  like  other  migratory 
animals,  make  their  periodical  appearance,  to  taste  such 
good  things,  and  enjoy  such  amusements,  as  these  re- 
mote regions  afford.  Then,  no  doubt,  all  is  bustle  and 
enjoyment.  Then  are  all  those  apartments,  which,  use- 
less in  the  solitude  of  winter  and  of  spring,  have  long  re- 
mained unconscious  of  human  presence,  opened,  aired, 
and  prepared  with  every  attention  to  comfort  for  the  re- 
ception of  the  expected  visitants.    Then  comes  the  bus- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  99 

tie  of  housewives  and  housekeepers:  the  stores  of  snow 
white  linen  are  produced  from  their  crypts,  the  condition 
of  the  plentifully-peopled  poultry  yard  is  examined,  and 
the  fat  five-year-old  wedders  are  set  apart.  Alas!  that 
good  living  and  hospitality  should  involve  so  much 
bloodshed  and  murder!  Then  are  hedges  trimmed,  and 
lawns  fresh  shaved;  approaches  smoothed  and  beautified 
and  all  immundicities  removed  with  more  than  ordinary 
jealousy,  that  naught  but  beauty  and  neatness  may  meet 
the  critical  and  practised  eyes  of  friends  and  strangers 
Irom  more  polished  regions.  Then,  too,  is  the  post-bag 
more  anxiously  expected,  and  the  eyes  of  all  the  indwell- 
ers  of  castles,  and  houses,  and  seats  and  cottages,  like 
those  of  sister  Anne,  are  wistfully  turned  towards  the 
distant  road,  to  "see  if  any  one  is  coming." 

Far  be  it  from  us  however,  to  insinuate  that  "hfe  in 
the  Highlands,"  though  for  the  most  part  calm  and  un- 
varied, is  therefore  of  necessit}^ either  tedious  or  dull. 
To  those  who  have  a  relish  for  rural  pursuits  and 
amusements,  there  is  no  country  which  affords  them  in 
greater  diversity  or  perfection.  There  is  something 
peculiarly  exhilarating  and  elating  in  the  interminable 
extent  and  wild  picturesque  variety  of  a  large  Highland 
property,  which  must  be  unknown  to  the  majority  of  our 
southern  neighbours.  Its  noble  mountains  and  green 
valleys — the  mysteries  of  its  deep  glens  and  dark  woods 
— the  fantastic  forms  of  its  rocks  and  precipices — its 
rapid  torrents  and'majestic  rivers — its  bright  silver  lakes 
gleaming  in  the  sun,  or  its  dusky  tarns,  whose  black 
water  reflects  back  only  the  shaggy  heath  and  rugged 
cliffs  which  hem  them  in — its  rich  cultivation  and  beau- 
tiful farms  embosomed  in  woods  of  weeping  birch;  even 
its  strange  looking  toons  and  assemblages  of  black  huts, 
scattered  on  the  brae-face,  or  river's  bank,  amidst  a 
profusion  of  "bonnie  broom,"  rich  scented  whins,  (furze,) 
bramble  and  dog-rose  bushes,  potato  patches,  and  crolts 
of  black  oats — all  are  so  many  points  of  interest  to  a 
proprietor — so  many  objects  of  regard,  and  motives  to 
the  exertion  of  an  improving  spirit,  which  may  vie  even 
with  the  pohshed  beauty,  the  rich  exuberant  verdure 
and  more  perfect  culture  of  "merry  England."  And 
when  a  Highland  laird  wanders,  staff'  in  hand,  the  live- 
long day  among  his  thriving  plantations,  views  his  im- 
proving farms  or  traverses  the  wide  bounds  of  his  graz- 
ings — when,  with  his  gun  over  his  shoulder,  he  strides 
over  a  dozen  miles  of  ^ood  grousing  hill,  or  summons 
out  a  score  of  gillies  to  neat  the  side  of  a  glen,  and  to- 


100  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

gether  with  his  friends,  returns  home  loaded  with  wood- 
cock, and  blackcocli,  and  hares,  and  roebucks — aye,  and 
sometimes  with  a  gallant  stag,  or  a  fat  "yell  hind," 
across  the  back  of  a  pony,  we  think  he  may  be  held  ex- 
cused if  he  feels  a  pride  and  exultation  equal  to  that  of 
the  English  lord  or  squire  who  can  count  treble  his  rent 
on  a  tithe  of  the  surface,  and  who,  from  a  cov^er  of  a 
score  of  acres,  will  drive  out  to  slaughter  some  hundred 
head  of  pheasants  as  tame  as  barn-door  fowls,  or  of 
hares  and  rabbits  that  scarce  dream  of  getting  out  of  the 
sportsman's  way. 

If  to  all  that  has  been  said,  be  added  the  extensive 
good  which  a  Highland  proprietor  has  it  in  his  power  to 
effect  among  the  numerous  small  tenants  and  cotters, 
who,  in  spite  of  the  "large  farm  system,"  must  still  exist 
to  a  considerable  extent  upon  all  large  estates,  and 
whose  comparative  ignorance  calls  loudly  upon  their 
landlord  for  assistance  and  instruction,  we  shall  scarcely 
find  grounds  to  deny  that  such  a  gentleman  as  do  their 
duty  to  their  estates  and  their  teliantry,  may  find  very 
sufficient  occupation  to  banish  the  torments  of  ennui. 

Even  the  females  of  the  family  may  find  ample  and 
interesting  employment  in  the  performance  of  the  seve- 
ral duties  that  will  fall  to  their  share,  if  they  seek  to  be 
useful;  and  should  their  station  in  life  exempt  them  from 
the  more  laborious  details  of  domestic  arrangements, 
still  they  never  can  be  at  a  loss  for  objects  of  charity  and 
benevolence  to  call  forth  their  better  feelings,  or  for  sub- 
jects of  moral  improvement  on  which  to  exercise  their 
judgment  and  their  taste. 

With  all  this,  however,  there  are  few  so  perfectly  con- 
tented with  their  share  of  enjoyment,  as  to  be  insensible 
to  the  pleasure  of  a  little  extraordinary  excitement.  If 
the  incident  which  creates  it  be  of  an  agreeable  nature, 
so  much  the  better — if  even  a  little  of  the  contrary  des- 
cription, it  is  scarce  altogether  unwelcome.  It  then  acta 
like  the  sharp  gales  and  breezes  of  spring  and  autumn 
which,  though  they  may  do  some  little  damage  to  our 
plants  and  flowers,  or  disorder  for  a  few  hours  the  cornely 
dress  of  nature,  purify  an  atmosphere  which  might 
otherwise  become  dense  and  foggy.  It  prevents  that 
stagnation  and  hebetude  of  the  mind  which  is  the  conse- 
quence of  continual  inaction. 

The  arrival  of  a  gay  young  Englishman  at  Inverallich 
castle  was  of  itself  a  source  of  no  mean  enjoyment;  but 
when  he  became  the  hero  of  an  adventure,  the  pleasure 
derived  from  his  society  was  tenfold  increased;  and  for 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  101 

sDtne  time  after  his  return  from  the  bothy  on  this  occa- 
sion, nothing  was  talked  of  in  or  about  the  castle  and  its 
neighbourhood  but  the  wonderful  and  unaccountable  in- 
cident which  had  occurred  to  their  Southern  guest. 

Engagements  of  an  urgent  nature  prevented  his  hav- 
ing any  particular  communication  with  his  friend  the 
laird,  until  the  forenoon  of  the  day  succeeding  his  ar- 
rival, and  then  only  for  a  few  moments  before  his  taking 
horse  to  ride  to  a  farm  at  some  distance. 

'■'You  won't  go  with  me,  Harry,  I  dare  say — stay  at 
home,  amuse  the  ladies  and  recruit — I  shall  fee  back  to 
dinner,  at  which  I  expect  the  company  of  some  gentle- 
men who  will,  I  am  sure,  be  well  pleased  to  know  the 
particulars  of  your  adventure,  and  who  are  perhaps  as 
well  qualified  as  any  in  the  country  to  give  you  the  in- 
formation about  which  you  are  so  curious — I  mean  re- 
garding our  Highland  smugglers,  or  rather  illeo-al  distil- 
lers. I  shall  defer  hearing  all  particulars  myself  till  then, 
although  there  are  some  things  I  have  heard  already 
that  puzzled  me  extremely.  Adieu,  then,  after  dinner 
we  shall  hear  all  about  it — till  then  I  kiss  your  hands." 

The  hour  of  dinner  came,  and  with  it  the  company. 
On  Tresham's  entering  the  drawing-room  he  became 
aware  that  the  party  was  increased  oy  the  presence  of 
four  gentlemen  who  were  unknown  to  him.  The  first 
of  these,  a  fine-looking  elderly  man,  on  whose  benevolent 
features  and  cheerful  countenance  more  than  sixty  win- 
ters had  laid  a  gentle  hand,  although  the  leaden  gray  of 
of  his  curly  locks  did  in  some  sort  confess  their  influence, 
was  introduced  to  the  young  Englishman  by  the  name 
of  Mr.  Stewart,  of  Airdruthmore.  The  next  was  Cap- 
tain Macaskill,  ofBallytulIy,  a  gentleman,  the  prominent 
characteristics  of  whose  outward  man  were  an  air  of 
military  pretence  mingled  with  something  of  impudent 
assumption  belonging  rather  to  the  bully  than  the  of- 
ficer; a  countenance  naturally  handsome,  but  deformed 
by  that  peculiar  and  repulsive  cast,  communicated  by 
habitual  contact  with  low  life,  and  a  look  of  assumed  de- 
fiance, indicating  the  secret  uneasiness  felt  in  unwonted 
society;  a  persoli,  tall,  handsome,  and  strongly  built, 
but  impressed  with  the  swagger  of  one  who  deems  not 
lightly  of  his  own  consequence,  and  demands  a  like  con- 
sideration from  others. 

Mr.  Ross,  the  third  in  succession,  was  announced  as 

clergyman  of  a  neighbouring  parish,  who  had  come  to 

assist  at  the  "preachings"  held  in  that  where  Inverral- 

lieh  was  situated.    His  mild,  placid,  and  benevolent,  yet 

I  2 


102  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

intellig-ent  countenance,  presented  a  contrast  to  that  of  the 
valiant  captain  which  was  particularly  favourable  to  the 
man  of  peace.  The  fourth  was  a  plain  country  laird,  as 
it  seemed  with  little  pretensions  to  any  distinguishing 
traits;  he  was  a  hard-featured,  large-boned,  tall  man, 
with  weather-beaten  face  and  red  hair,  but  an  acute  and 
sagacious  countenance.  He  was  introduced  as  Mr. 
Cameron,  of  Dunlarig,  a  neighbouring  proprietor. 

The  conversation,  during  the  time  of  dinner  and  while 
the  ladies  remained  at  table,  was  of  that  general  and  de- 
sultory character  which  commonly  prevails  under  such 
circumstances.  Considerable  progress  was  made  in  the 
usual  routine  of  "parish  business,"  as  it  is  termed.  Ac- 
curate information  was  sought  and  obtained  on  all  parts, 
of  the  state  of  the  crops — the  forwardness  of  the  wheat 
and  barley  harvest — of  the  hay  crop — of  the  breadth  of 
turnips — the  price  of  wool,  mutton,  and  black-cattle:  and 
the  ladies  were  forced  to  listen  once  more  to  the  oft-re- 
peated "tales  of  the  muirs" — the  condition  of  the  uncon- 
scious animals  which  were  to  afford  the  approaching 
aport — the  strength  of  packs — the  size  of  the  young 
birds,  &c.  &c. 

As  soon,  however,  as  the  gentlemen  had  closed  their 
ranks  after  the  departure  of  the  ladies,  the  claret  having 
circulated,  and  those  who  preferred  the  less  elegant 
beverage  of  "whiskey  toddy,"  having  supplied  them- 
selves to  their  desire,  the  laird  of  Airdruthmore,  ad- 
dressed the  young  Englishman  with  an  air  of  considera- 
ble interest.  "I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Tresham,  to  hear  from 
my  friend  Glenvallich,  that  you  have  met  with  an  ugly 
sort  of  adventure,  and  rather  discourteous  treatment 
among  these  wild  hills  of  ours:  such  an  affront  to  a 
stranger  must  affect  all  of  us  Highlanders,  and  I'm  sure 
there  is  not  one  of  us,  but  would  wish  to  detect  and  bruig 
to  punishment  the  people  that  could  act  in  a  way  so  dis- 
creditable to  themselves  and  their  country.  Would  you 
be  so  kind  as  to  let  us  hear  what  really  took  place?" 

"That,  sir,"  replied  Tresham,  "I  shall  most  willingly 
do,  although  I  do  assure  you,  that  the  last  thing  I  should 
think  of  would  be  to  impute  any  degree  of  blame  to  either 
the  country  where  I  have  been  so  happy,  or  to  the  inhabit- 
ants from  w^hom  I  have  received  so  much  kindness,  for 
the  act  of  a  few  lawless  banditti,  for  such  I  do  believe 

them  to  have  been " 

"Aye,  Mr.  Tresham,  but  banditti  are  no  such  common 
cattle  in  the  north  now  o'  days,  the  times  of  the  Caterarie 
are  past,  and  even  they  had  the  grace  to  commit  their 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  103 

depredations  abroad — now  you  seem  to  have  been  insult- 
ed in  the  very  place  where  you  had  sought  shelter  from 
the  weather  and  the  night— that's  worse  than  the  act  oi' 
a  Cataran,  sir.  I  would  fain  know  who  could  have  been 
guilty  of  it.-' 

"Well,  sir,  of  that  I  can  say  nothing;  but  if  you  please, 
I  will  tell  you  what  happened,  and  you  may  form  your 
own  conclusions."  Tresham  then  related  at  full  the 
whole  of  his  adventure  in  the  hill,  from  his  first  starting 
from  the  bothy  of  Auchonrui,  till  the  time  he  fell  in  with 
the  two  foresters  on  the  following  morning. 

The  whole  party  listened  with  profound  and  interest- 
ed attention,  interrupting  him  only  to  put  such  questions 
as  were  calculated  to  elicit  information  regarding  the  di- 
rections he  had  taken,  or  the  character  of  ihe  people 
amongst  whom  he  had  fallen.  Airdrulhmore  eyed  him 
with  fixed  attention;  Ballytully  with  an  air  of  sarcastic 
incredulity.  "A  very  strange  affair,  indubitably,''  re- 
marked the  lormer  at  length;  "what  think  you  of  it 
yourselt^.  Glenvallich?"' 

"Why,  truly,  Airdruthmore,  my  friend's  adventure 
may  very  fairly  be  termed  a  singular  atfair,  since,  in 
the  whole  of  my  experience  and  acquaintance  with  the 
country,  I  never  heard  of  any  thing  resembling  it— nor 
did  you,  I'll  venture  to  say.  As  lor  the  character  of  hie 
scurvy  entertainers  and  their  den,  there  cannot  be  two 
opinions,  I  think;  I  only  can't  imagine  who  they  could 
be.  and  where  the  deuce  my  triend  has  been,  to  fall  in 
with  such  savaees — that  is  what  puzzles  me." 

"Faith,  it  will  puzzle  more  than  you  I  fancy,  Glenval- 
lich. Many  a  whiskey  still  have  I  known  of  and  seen  in  the 
hills,  but  never  was  there  one  employed  about  them  that 
would  not  rather  have  welcomed  and  aided  a  gentleman, 
than  affronted  him.  Take  my  word  for  it,  they've  been 
none  of  our  kindly  Highland  brewsters  that  Mr.  Tre- 
sham has  met  with.  It  must  have  been  some  of  those 
wild  west  country,  or  ow'r-the-sea  smugglers  from 
France  or  Holland.  He  has  fallen  in  with  some  houflTof 
theirs,  and  they've  been  frightened  that  he  was  an  offi- 
cer or  spy;  so  they  didn't  want  him  to  know  his  way 
hdjck  again." 

"Aye.  faith-,  and  strong  cause  of  terror  must  thej 
have  had,  and  worse  than  common  must  they  have  been, 
to  conduct  themse-lves  so,"  replied  Glenvallich.  "There's 
not  one  in  the  country  better  known  as  an  enemy  to 
their  trade  in  all  its  branches,  than  myself;  but  never 
yet  did  I  meet  with  any  thing  but  civility  when  I  have 


101  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

chanced  to  stumble  on  a  still.  Besides,  fear  of  discovery 
is  insufficient  to  account  for  so  much  needless  brutality 
as  Tresham  met  with." 

"Ah,  faith!  these  foreign  rascals,  and  their  black 
Highland  colleagues,  are  sad,  reckless,  bloody  rogues, 
they  say — no  saying  what  they  might  do,  if  they  were 
provoked.  Bat  what  think  ye,  yourself,  I  ask  again, 
Glenvalhch?    Where  could  this  same  houff  have  been?" 

"Why,  in  spite  of  the  distance,  Airdruthmore,  I'm  in- 
clined to  think  with  Maccombich,"  said  Glenvalhch. 
"I  do  really  believe  that  Tresham  has  somehow  or 
other  found  his  way  into  part  of  the  hills  or  braes  of 
Glen  Shlichard."  As  far  as  I  can  judge  from  his  ac- 
count, the  direction  he  seems  to  have  taken  in  pursuit  of 
that  last  deer  might  have  landed  him  there;  and  the 
young  man  has  got  light  heels  and  good  wind— a  deep 
moss,  or  a  steep  liiU,  are  a  joke  to  hTm  now.  He  must 
have  made  a  greater  progress  than  he  suspected,  in  his 
ardour." 

"I  crave  pardon,  Glenvalhch,"  said  the  laird  ofBally- 
tully,  who  had  not  yet  spoken,  and  who  had  hitherto  sat 
listening  with  a  contemptuous  air  to  what  was  passing: 
"I  crave  pardon,  but  I  have  yet  heard  no  good  reason  to 
suppose  the  young  gentleman  has  been  near  the  place 
you  think  of;  indeed,  to  me  the  whole  affair  wears  so 
strange  and  incomprehensible  a  shape,  as  to  afford  no 
ground  of  judging  where  he  has  been,  or  who  he  may 
nave  forgathered  with." 

"An  admirable  help  at  hand  you  prove  to  people  at 
fault,  BallytuUy,"  said  Glenvalhch,  laughing;  "you 
knock  on  the  head  our  only  probable  conjecture,  yet 
offer  none  other  to  stand  in  its  place.  But  I  dare  to  say 
you  must  know  more  of  this  same  glen  and  its  inmates 
than  I  can  do,  so  I  bow  to  your  superior  information." 

"By  no  means,  Glenvalhch,  interrupted  BallytuUy, 
hastily;  I  pray  you  attribute  no  such  knowledge  to  me. 
In  Glen  Shlichard  I  have  been,  no  doubt,  as  have  most 
of  this  company,  probably,  in  their  day;  but  I  know  little 
more  of  it  than  that  it  is  a  fine  Highland  glen,  with  a 
wheen  fine  stout  fellows  in  it — wild  a  little,  but  clever 
chields — by  no  means  likely  to  run  their  heads  against  a 
wall  like  blind  beetles,  or  to  misuse  a  stranger  if  he 
came  among  them.  They  may  have  changed,  to  be 
sure,  since  I  knew  them." 

"But  pray  take  pity  on  my  curiosity,  gentlemen,"  said 
Tresham,  who  sat  listening  with  some  impatience  to  all 
this:  "Tell  me  where  this  same  mysterious  glen  with 


THE  HIGHLA>'D  SMUGGLERS.  105 

the  hard  name,  may  be  after  all — Slikard,  or  how  do  you 
call  it? — Every  one  who  names  it  seems  to  do  so  with  a 
holy  horror,  as  if  thereby  hung  a  tale — as  if  it  were  some 
terra  incognita,  inhabited  by  wild  barbarians — What,  in 
the  name  of  goodness,  are  its  peculiarities? — What  has 
rendered  it  so  famous  or  i?ifamous?" 

''Why,  Glen  Shlichard,  the  pronunciation  of  which 
seems  so  nearly  to  convulse  your  English  organs  of 
speech,"  replied  Glenvallich,  "is  a  fine  extensive  valley, 
enclosed  by  lofty,  and  in  someplaces  very  rugged  moun- 
tains, and  it  lies  to  the  north-west  oi"  Glenochree,  and 
the  country  you  are  acquainted  with  in  that  direction. 
Strange  to  say,  it  is  almost  what  you  have  termed  it — a 
terra  incognita,  even  to  its  nearest  neighbours.  Not 
being  acquainted  Avith  the  place,  althouoh  I  have  been 
amongst  its  outskirts,  and  though  part  ofmy  property  in 
one  direction  bounds  with  it,  I  cannot  describe  it  to  you 
more  particularly.  Its  inaccessibility  is  no  doubt  one 
great  cause  of  our  ignorance  regarding  it,  as  well  as  of 
the  total  neglect  it  has  hitherto  sustained;  tor  there  is  no 
tolerable  road  by  which  it  may  be  entered.  Its  inhabit- 
ants, though  not  absolutely  barbarous,  are  certainly  but 
little  civ^ilized — less  so,  perhaps,  than  those  of  most  dis% 
tricts  in  the  Highlands;  and  the  country  thus  offering 
but  little  temptation  either  to  curiosity  or  speculation, 
remains  neglected,  unknown,  and  unimproving." 

"Now  to  me,"  interrupted  Tresham,  "the  very  circum- 
stances you  have  mentioned— its  remoteness,  its  neglect- 
ed state,  the  primitive  condition  of  its  inhabitants,  would 
all  be  strong  inducements  for  visiting  it." 

"Well,  such  may  be  your  feeling,"  continued  Glenval- 
lich, smiling;  "but  such  motives  would  not  and  do  not 
influence  men  of  business,  or  mere  men  of  pleasure. 
What  do  your  tourists  think  of  beyond  their  road  books, 
or  the  suggestions  of  their  friends  and  guides,  nearly  as 
ignorant  as  themselves? — And  w^hat  should  take  a  man 
of  business — a  speculator  in  land,  for  instance—to  a  wild 
glen,  where  he  rnight  sink  his  money  in  a  peat  bog,  and 
never  draw  rent  from  it  except  in  the  shape  of  cranberries 
and  hisather,  or  deer,  provided  he  could  catch  them?" 

"But,  God  bless  me!"  exclaimed  Tresham,  "who  is 
the  proprietor  of  this  same  ^ien?  and  what  is  he  about? 
— Does  he  get  no  rent — is  he  msensible  to  interest  as  well 
as  to  duty?" 

"Perhaps,"  replied  Glenvallich,  "you  have  hit  upon 
the  only  cause  sufficient  to  account  for  the  anomaly  which 
such  a  state  of  things  exhibits  in  a  peaceable  and  gene- 


106  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

rally  well-regulated  country.  It  can  scarce  be  said  to 
have  a  proprietor  at  all.  This  e-len  formed  part  of  a 
property  which,  having  been  forfeited  in  the  forty-five, 
continued  in  the  hands  of  the  crown  after  the  restora- 
tion of  most  others,  because  no  lineal  descendant  of 
the  original  proprietor  remained  ahve  to  claim  it;  and 
the  collateral  branches  disputed  their  priority  of  right 
so  long,  that  the  greater  number  of  them  died  off, 
leaving  the  question  undecided.  The  estate  thus  remain- 
ed in  the  hands  of  the  crown  commissioners,  and  still 
continues  in  trust  for  the  true  heir  when  he  shall  make 
his  appearance — an  event  which  seems  of  dubious  pro- 
babihty.  In  the  mean  time,  the  property  has  been,  and 
continues  to  be  entirely  neglected:  the  rents  are  suti'ered 
to  fall  into  arrear,  and  such  as  may  be  collected  go  in  no 
wise  towards  its  improvement.  The  tenants,  or  rather 
rotters — for  they  are  little  more — the  descendants  of  old 
holders,  do  just  as  they  please,  and  pay  what  they  please; 
tor  the  agent,  who  resides  in  Edinburgh,  seldom  ap- 
proaches the  place.  Indeed,  I  believe  bethinks  such  a 
step  would  be  a  greater  risk  than  he  would  willingly  ex- 
pose his  precious  person  to;  and  the  factor,  a  decent  man, 
with  plenty  of  other  work  on  his  hands  from  those  who 
pay  better  and  require  stricter  service,  cannot  and  does 
not  give  to  Glen  Shlichard  that  superintendence  which 
such  a  place  would  require.  In  fact,  his  power  and  his 
office  are  little  more  than  nominal,  and  consequently  in- 
efiective.  He  is,  therefore,  content  to  take  from  the  te- 
nants such  payment  in  produce  or  money  as  they  tender, 
and  which  they  do  rather  as  a  premium  for  remaining 
unmolested,  than  as  rent  legally  and  acknowledgedly 
due." 

"Good  Heaven!  what  a  singular  state  of  things  to  ex- 
ist in  the  island  of  Great  Britain,  and  in  the  nineteenth 
century  too!" 

"Aye,  you  may  well  say  so,  and  the  fact  may  be  re- 
gretted more  easily  than  remedied;  but  there  is  Dunla- 
rig,  who  can  tell  you  much  more  and  much  better  than  I 
can  about  the  matter,  not  to  mention  Ballytully,  who 
seems  somewhat  shy  of  communicating  his  information." 

"Who — I,  Glenvallich?  Ye  seem  to  think — to  have 
formed  a  very  erroneous  idea  of  my  knowledge  of  Glen 
Shlichard,  and  its  queer  people.  I  can  assure  you,  once 
more,  they  are  very  little  of  my  acquaintance,"  said  Bal- 
lytully, starting,  and  much  displeased,  as  it  seemed,  at 
this  remark  of  his  host. 

"O,  I  beg  pardon,  Ballytully,"  said  he,  laughing,  "1 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  107 

meant  no  offence,  I  assure  you.  I  had  no  idea  the  sim- 
ple joke  I  uttered  would  have  displeased  you;  but,  Dun- 
larig,  you,  I  believe,  do  not  object  to  be  recognised  as 
one  of  the  few  who  know  something  of  this  formidable 

"Not  I,  faith,  Glenvallich!"  said  the  laird;  "Glen  Shli- 
chard  and  I  are  old  acquaintances,  not  ashamed  to  ac- 
knowledge each  other;  and  at  this  moment.  I  am  confi- 
dent that  I  could  go  through  every  corner  of  it.  finding  a 
welcome  from  man,  woman,  and  bairn.  But  as  to  the 
state  of  the  place,  there's  little  to  be  added  to  what  you 
have  said  yourself;  and  I  believe  you  have  given  the 
true  reason  why  the  fine  grazing  of  Glen  Shlichard  has 
been  so  totally  neglected.  A\  hat  else  can  possibly  be  the 
fate  of  a  property  which  has  neither  master  nor  factor — 
no  one  to  restrain  encroachments,  or  hold  out  encour- 
agement for  improvements — no  one  to  stand  up  for  it  in 
public,  or  to  manage  its  affairs  in  private;  and  what  de- 
cent tenant  would  ever  engage  with  a  farm  under  such 
circumstances?  In  that  bonny  glen — for  though  it  is 
wild  and  mountainous,  it  is  a  very  bonny  glen — there  are 
more  than  three  hundred  families,  who,  lor  several  fol- 
lowing generations,  have  remained  there  unmolested 
tenants  of  the  ground.  Not  a  lease,  or  tack,  or  missive 
of  any  kind,  has  one  of  thenv  they  just  hold  the  land  by 
possession — use  and  wont,  as  one  may  say,  no  one  chal- 
lenging their  risrht.  And  they  do  pay  a  kind  of  rent,  too; 
they  know  that  the  ground  is  not  theirs,  and  they  know, 
too,  that  they  must  pay  something  for  it;  but  they  seem 
to  think  that  no  man  has  any  title  to  dispossess  them— 
that  they  have  a  prescriptive  right  to  sit  there  from  fa- 
ther to  son,  and  to  maintain  that  right,  they  do  consent, 
pretty  regularly,  to  pay  something;  very  small  certainly 
if  compared  to  the  value  of  their  farms — for  though  they 
well  know  their  advantages,  and  the  difficulty  of  forcing 
them  into  more  regular  accomptings,  they  seem  also  to 
perceive  that  it  may  be  dangerous  to  push  matters  too 
far."* 

'■'But  have  you  no  kind  of  law  in  these  parts,"  inquired 
Tresham,  in  no  small  astonishment  at  a  state  of  affairs 

*  Stringe  and  singular  a.s  it  may  sound,  the  description  here  given 
IS  one  which  actually  applies  to  a  remarkablv  fine  glen  in  one  of  the 
northern  Highland  counties,  as  it  was  not  half-a-dozen  years  ago, 
and  as  it  probably,  in  some  respects,  is  yet.  The  picture  will,  we 
doubt  not,  be  recognised  by  many  of  its  neighbours,  who  are  cogni- 
sant of  the  facts  here  shadowed  forth  under  a  fictitious  name. 


108  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

that  his  philosophy  had  never  dreamt  of— "are  there  no 
such  thin2:s  as  warrants  and  constables,  officers  of  jus- 
tice— as  distraining  for  rent  when  payment  is  refused?" 
"Yes;  we  have  these  things  here,  as  with  you,  sir;  but 
Where's  the  sheriff's  officer  that  would  venture  to  exe- 
cute a  warrant  in  Glen  Shlichard?"  replied  Dunlarig, 
smiling;  "or  if  he  did  venture  there,  and  by  a  miracle 

W3served  his  bones  whole,  to  what  use  would  it  be? 
hat  would  he  find  to  answer  the  demand?" 

"What!  have  these  people  no  property,  no  cattle,  no 
stock,  no  farming  instruments,  no  furniture,  or  other 
valuables?" 

"Hah!  hah!  hah!  Mr.  Tresham,  ye  must  have  little 
acquaintance  with  Highland  farms  and  Highland  te- 
nants, when  ye  ask  such  questions,"  said  Airdruth- 
more,  laughing  good-humouredly.  "Why,  Lord  bless 
you,  whoever  thought  of  a  cart  or  a  plough  in  such  a 
place  as  Glen  Shhchard?  Not  a  tool  would  ye  find 
there,  except  a  shovel  or  a  hoe  may  be,  or  a  flaughter 
spade,  and  a  graip  for  digging  thei-^  potatoes;  and  as  for 
furniture,  a  three-legged  stool,  with  two  or  three  rough 
benches — seldom  a  table — a  few  cougs  and  quaichs,  some 
wooden  dishes,  and  horn  spoons,  make  up  the  sum  and 
substance  of  their  plenishing.  As  for  cattle  and  stock, 
why  the  minute  the  scent  pf  a  suspicious  character  is 
perceived  at  the  bottom  of  the  glen,  every  hoof  and  horn 
is  off  to  the  hills  in  a  jiffy;  and  even  if  they  are  caught,  a 
thing  not  to  be  done  just  with  a  word,  or  a  hop,  step, 
and  jump,  who  is  to  swear  to  the  property? — who  is  to 
identify  the  beasts?  Ye  might  as  well  think  to  lay  salt 
on  a  plover's  tail,  as  to  put  hands  on  the  beast  of  one  of 
these  Highland  loupers." 

"Ah!  there  I  can  easily  believe  you — there  I  am  at 
home.  I  grant  it  can  he  no  joke  to  make  a  search  for 
animals  of  any  sort,  if  it  were  elephants  and  mammoths 
themselves,  in  these  wildernesses  of  beins,  and  scoors, 
and  meals,  and  knocks,  with  their  full  complements  of* 
carries,  and  glens,  and  glaiks,  and  slochds;  and  their 
wild  rocks  and  shaggy  wood,  hid  for  half  the  vear  in 
mist." 

"Aye,  aye,  I  see  ye  begin  to  understand  the  matter; 
but  woe's  me,  man!  ye 're  sorely  behind  in  the  auccent. 
Our  ochs,  and  uaichs,  and  adhs,  and  oibhs,  and  mJwrs, 
come  ill  out  of  an  Enghsh  throat;  but  a  willing  heart 
makes  a  light  task,  ye  may;  come  to  in  time.  I  should 
like  to  have  the  teaching  of  you  at  Airdruthmore,  for 
some  weeks  or  so." 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  109 

"Many  thanks  for  your  kindness.  I  should  be  proud 
to  be  your  pupil,  althous^h  I  tear  you  would  have  little 
credit  in  me.  But  in  the  name  ot  goodness,  how  does 
this  multitude  of  inhabitants,  tenants,  cotters — call  them 
how  you  will — manage  to  subsist  themselves,  if  they  do 
not  cultivate  the  ground,  even  though  they  do  sit  almost 
rent  tree?"  said  Tresham,  addressing  himself  once  more 
to  Dunlarig. 

"Why,  sir,"  replied  that  gentleman,  "you  would 
scarcely  credit  me  if  I  were  to  tell  you;  but  it  is  a  short 
tale.  They  plant  potatoes  and  brew  whiskey;  that  is,  in 
two  words,  the  history  of  their  lite  and  occupation."' 

"Upon  my  word,  equally  short  and  strange!  And  am 
I  to  understand  that  all  this  brewing  is  illegal — unlicens- 
ed?" 

"Sir,  I'll  drink  at  one  draught  out  of  this  ^lass,  every 
drop  that  ever  paid  the  king  a  farthing,"  replied  the  laird 
of  Dunlarig,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  and  taking 
otf  the  last  drop  of  toddy  from  his  glass,  as  he  prepared 
to  replenish  it. 

"And  they  purchase  the  necessaries  of  life  from  the 
profits  of  this  illicit  traffic?" 

"Exactly  so;  the  very  limited  stock  of  necessaries 
which  such  people  require — videlicit,  meal,  salt,  a  few 
trifles  of  hardware,  and  their  simple  apparatus  for  brew- 
ing and  distilling.  As  for  clothes,  they  spin  the  yarn 
and  weave  the  cloth  from  their  own  woolj  and  their 
brogaes  are  made  of  the  cows'  and  horses'  hides,  which 
they  kill  or  which  die  among  them." 

"But  don't  thev  sow  corn  to  supply  the  grain  lor  this 
illicit  distillation?^' 

"Not  at  all.  In  the  lower  part  of  the  glen,  there  may 
be  a  few  bolls  of  barley  sown,  and  sometimes  a  little 
black  oats;  but  in  general  they  find  it  more  to  their  taste, 
if  not  to  their  advantage,  to  purchase  grain  from  other 
quarters.  The  manure  of  a  few  cows,  added  to  ground 
long  suffered  to  lie  fallow — for  they  frequently  change 
the  land  appropriated  to  tillage — produces  generally  a 
tolerable  potato  crop;  and  when  oatmeal  is  scarce, 
they  live  on  these  roots,  with  a  seasoning  of  salt  or  milk." 

"And  is  it  possible  that  these  people  obtain  any  regular 
supply  of  corn  from  without?    Will  any  one  trust  their 

Eroperty  in  the  hands  of  such  lawless  beings?  or  proba- 
ly  they  deliver  with  one  hand,  receiving  payment  with 
the  other — all  cash  business?" 

"By  no  means:  cash  may  be  preferred,  and  is  fre- 
quently paid  down;  but  here,  as  in  other  cases,  a  traffic 

VOL.  I.  K 


110  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

of  this  description  becomes  secret  and  confidential — the 
parties  preserve  a  conscientious  and  inviolable  laith  in 
all  such  transactions,  because  they  know  that  on  such 
terms  alone  it  can  be  carried  on;  and  as  the  benefit  is 
mutual,  it  is  contrary  to  the  interest  of  either  party  to 
deceive.  Such  an  occurrence  on  the  part  of  one  of  the 
traders  in  that  glen,  is  nearly  as  rare  as  a  defaulter  on 
accounting  day  at  the  Stock  Exchange  of  London." 

"Well,  I  can  understand  that,  singular  as  the  thine 
may  appear,"  replied  Tresham;  "but  it  appears  still 
more  singular  that  in  this  age  of  enterprise,  no  spirited 
speculator  should  have  proposed  taking  a  lease  of  this 
fine  glen,  as  a  sheep  farmer  or  cattle  breeder.  Surely  it 
would  pay  well,  and  the  agent,  one  would  think,  would 
as  surely  give  encouragement  to  such  an  offer." 

"Why,  I  dare  say  Avhen  such  an  offer  is  made,  there 
will  no  difficulty  arise  on  the  agent's  part.  But  who, 
think  you,  in  his  senses,  would  dream  of  risking  his 
money,  or  placing  his  person  in  collision  with  rude  igno- 
rant people,  who  despise  all  law  because  they  have 
never  been  made  to  feel  its  power,  and  who  would  look 
upon  and  treat  him  as  a  troublesome  interloper:  no  pru- 
dent man,  depend  upon  it.  If  he  did,  his  stock  would 
soon  find  a  market,  and  himself  something  worse  than  ■ 
a  broken  head.  No;  very  different  must  be  the  condi- 
tion of  Glen  Shlichard  before  it  will  tempt  a  good  tenant, 
or  yield  a  return  to  a  purchaser." 

"Well,  I  dare  say  you  are  right,"  said  Tresham;  "but 
pray  is  this  same  glen  remarkable  beyond  all  other  for 
this  illicit  trade?  Is  not  smuggling  a  general  thing  in  the 
Highlands? — I  think  1  have  heard  it  so  said." 

"Sorry  am  I  to  say,"  replied  Glenvallich,  "that  its 
pres'alence  is  only  limited  b}^  difficulty  of  concealment  or 
utter  want  of  means.  Scarce  a  Highland  glen  will  you 
find  without  its  stills,  or  some  connection  with  those 
who  have  them.  But  there  are  always  places  more 
celebrated  than  others  for  their  produce,  or  better 
qualified  by  nature  tor  the  purpose.  Some  have  even, 
by  a  legislative  caprice,  received  the  privilege  of  making 
small  still  whiskey;  for  instance,  Ferinlosh inKoss-i^hire, 
a  district,  the  name  of  which  was  for  a  longtime  synony- 
mous with  that  of  the  best  Highland  whiskey." 

"And  pray  has  this  illeo'al  traffic  existed  very  long  in 
the  Highlands,  or  when  did  it  rise,  to  this  excessiv*e  ex- 
tent?" 

"Why  the  brewing  of  whi.ikey  is,  I  believe,  as  old 
almost,  as  the  growing  of  barley  in  the  Highlands;  but 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  Ill 

it  is  only  within  the  last  thirty  or  forty  years,  that  it  has 
reached  its  present  height.  Before  that  time,  brandy. 
gin,  and  rum,  were  generally  made  use  of  by  the  better 
classes,  and,  as  well  as  the  wines  of  France  and  Ger- 
many, were  landed  in  great  quantities,  and  at  very  low 
prices,  on  all  parts  of  the  coast,  particularly  of  the  west 
country.  It  was  then  as  common  to  have  a  piece  of 
brandy  or  a  hoghshead  of  claret  on  the  tap,  as  it  is  to- 
day to  see  an  anker  of  whiskey  or  a  barrel  of  ale  abroach. 
The  use  of  malt  was  in  those  days  much  more  confined 
to  ale  or  beer;  but  v>'hen  smuggling  by  sea  became 
hazardous  in  consequence  of  the  increased  vigilance  of 
the  legislature  in  enforcing  its  regulations  and  penalties, 
our  Highlanders  found  out.  not  only  that  whiskey  was  a 
very  excellent  spirit,  but  that  their  lone  glens  atforded 
the  means  of  making  it  on  their  own  terms  without  much 
danger  of  interruption,  and  that  their  barley  might  much 
moi"e  profitably  be  converted  into  it  than  into  ale  or 
beer,  as  formerly.  The  proprietors  of  low  country  pro- 
perties, on  their  sides,  soon  found  their  advantage  in 
the  new  trade,  and  encouraged  it  by  all  means  in  Iheir 
power,  as  affording  an  excellent  market  for  their  corn." 

"But  government  surely  could  not  long  be  blind  lo  the 
loss  they  thus  sustained;  did  they  not  take  some  sort  of 
measures  for  suppressing  this  nefarious  trade?" 

"Hah,  hah!''  exclaimed  Bally tully,  "by  my  faith,  if  it 
wasn't  stopped,  it  was  no  fault  of  theirs!  not  a  drop  of 
whiskey  would  be  brewed  without  leave  or  license  by 
their  good  will,  on  this  side  of  Tweed,  but  that  they 
don't  tnow  how  to  hinder  it.  What  can  the  fair  weather 
chiels,  sitting  in  their  big  chairs  round  their  boards  of 
green  cloth,  know  of  our  Highland  glens,  or  the  lads 
that  live  in  them?  An  exciseman  may  be  sent  to  plague 
a  parish,  and  the  officers  may  look  for  stills  till  they're 
blind,  but  what  good  or  ill  will  that  do?  How  is  one 
pair  of  eyes  to  iTe  always  on  the  watch  over  a  tract  of 
wild  hills  like  Badenoch  or  Lochaber,  with  as  many 
burns  and  corries  in  it  as  there's  checks  in  a  tartan  plaid?" 

"Sure  enough,  Ballytully,"  remarked  Mr.  Ross,  the 
clergyman,  with  a  smile  at  the  vehemence  of  his  man- 
ner; "government  is  scarcely  aware  of  the  difficulty  of 
organizing  any  efifectual  system  against  so  profitable 
ana  fascinating  a  trade,  in  a  country  so  wide,  so  intri- 
cate, and  so  thinly  peopled  as  the  Highlands.  The  very 
pleasure  of  the  ploy  is  more  than  sufficient  to  counter- 
balance the  slight  risks  they  at  present  run;  and  what, 
as  you  have  safd,  is  a  single  officer  in  a  district  of  a  thou- 


112  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

sand  or  fifteen  hundred  square  miles,  where  every  soul 
is  banded  against  him,  as  the  organ  of  a  tyrannical  law? 
for  they  deem  the  prohibition  against  brewing,  to  be  no- 
thing better  than  an  unjust  invasion  of  their  natural 
privileges  and  rights.  And  just  consider  how  the  poor 
officer  himself  is  situated:  set  down  in  a  remote  country, 
among  a  people  who  hate  his  whole  caste;  far  from  effi- 
cient help  or  assistance  to  enforce  his  authority,  or  se- 
cure his  seizures  should  he  make  any;  upon  a  poor  sa- 
lary too,  scarce  sufficient  for  the  necessaries— quite  in- 
adequate to  procure  the  comforts  of  life;  there  are  just 
two  alternatives  in  his  offer — either  to  do  his  duty,  viz. 
to  search  for,  seize,  prosecute,  and  persecute  all  delin- 
quents, that  is,  nearly  the  whole  population,  and  there- 
by to  exasperate  every  neighbour  he  has, — to  live  in 
open  war— nay,  actually  in  personal  danger;  or  to  ne- 
glect that  duty  which  he  is  bound  to  execute— to  wink  at 
the  proceedings  he  is  placed  there  to  check,— and  by 
such  means  to  secure  for  himself,  not  only  quiet  and  se- 
curity, but  a  large  portion  of  this  world's  goods,  in  the 
shape  otfees,  douceurs,  or  hush-money,  from  those  who 
benefit  by  his  discretion:  let  any  man  of  common  sense 
and  candour  say  which  is  the  alternative  most  likely  to 
be  generally  embraced." 

"Why,  I  do  confess  that  probability  leans  against  vir- 
tue and  honesty.  They  ought  to  have  a  more  liberal 
salary;  that  would  surely  outweigh  any  petty  bribes  that 
misrht  be  oflered?"' 

""V^'ould  it,  faith?  it  would  need  to  be  a  liberal  one 
with  a  witness  then,"  said  Dunlarig.  "Petty  bribes, 
why,  sir,  there's  many  a  laird  of  good  respect  in  his  own 
place,  that's  worse  off  than  John  Rankin,  the  exciseman, 
down  near  the  Clachan  yonder,  if  we  may  judge  by  ap- 
pearances. Honest  John  came  there  a  poor  starved- 
looking  creature,  with  a  hard  working  wife,  and  plenty 
of  ill-fed  bairns;  scarce  a  coat  had  he  to  his  back,  and  a 
pot  of  potatoes,  or  a  little  meal-brose  was  good  enough 
to  stop  the  mouths  of  his  family.  His  salary  is  forty 
pounds  a  year,  and  he  has  been  barely  six  years  in  the 
place;  yet  look  at  him  now%— he  is  fat.  sonsy,  well  put 
on, — his  wile  tucked  out  like  a  lady-lauders, — his  daugh- 
ters sent  to  school  to  learn  French  and  music, — and  he 
has  taken  the  farm  of  Drumcardoch,  built  a  good  house, 
stocked  the  place,  and,  as  I  hear,  has  his  credit  with  the 

bank  of lor  his  good  five  hundred  pounds.    Is  not 

that  well  managed  now,  out  of  forty  pound-i  a  year? 
Petty  bribes,  indeed!    Half  a  dozen  good  ewes  with 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  113 

Iambs  at  their  foot;  a  canny  Highland  cow  in  calf;  a  five- 
aye,  and  may  be  a  ten-pound  note  to  "kittle  his  loof;"  not 
to  speak  of  the  good  sonsy  ankers  of  the  mountain  dew  it- 
self, left  under  a  heap  oflitter  some  fine  night,  and  the  fat 
butter-kits,  and  the  nice  sweet  milk  cheeses.  But  John 
Rankin  is  a  civil ,  canny,  fair  spoken  chield,  that  knows  fine 
how  to  hold  well  on  both  sides:  there's  not  a  lad  in  the  dis- 
trict that  would  hurt  a  hair  of  John'shead,  nor  refuse  him 
a  day's  work  at  hay  time  or  harvest.  And  yet  John  can 
seize  a  still  or  a  brewst  too,  but  then  he  chooses  his 
time;  and  I  would  not  say  what  understanding  may  be 
between  him  and  its  owner." 

"A  singular  and  lamentable  state  of  things  indeed," 
said  Tresham;  but  the  profits  of  the  trade  must  be  far 
beyond  what  1  imagined." 

"Faith!  they're  not  small,  as  you  may  comprehend 
from  what  I  have  said,"  replied  Dunlarig.  "I  have 
known  a  boll  of  barley  turn  out  nearly  three  times  the 
value  in  whiskey,  it  would  have  done  if  sold  as  grain; 
and  cent  per  cent  is  common — that  is,  farmer's  and 
smuggler's  profits  together,  and  they  are  very  often 
united  in  the  same  person;  so  that  if  one  bi-ewst  in  three 
were  to  escape  seizure,  they  would  be  no  losers.  But 
after  all,  I'm  persuaded  that  it's  the  ploy  that  is  the  chief 
temptation,  as  Mr.  Ross  said.  The  secret  meetings, 
the  midnight  carousings,  the  interest  of  mystery  and  ha- 
zard, the  bandings  together  in  a  sort  of  common  cause, 
which  the  business  promotes;  there  is  no  telling  how 
powerful  an  effect  this  moral  or  rather  immora]  stimulus 
has.  I  do  believe  it  wou  Id  be  strong  enough  to  keep  up  the 
trade  if  there  was  no  profit  at  all  to  be  derived  from  it." 

"But  do  not  Highland  proprietors  see  the  grossness  of 
the  mischief,  and  exert  themselves  to  put  it  down.  Sure- 
ly it  must  tend  in  the  end  to  injure  their  interests." 

"Why  faith,  sir,  I  fear  Highland  proprietors  are  not 
always  so  lar-sighted:  they  like  high  rents;  their  little 
tenants  could  pay  them  none  without  this  mode  of  con- 
verting their  produce  into  cash — at  least  so  they  will  tell 
you — and  they  have  some  feeling  for  their  own  pockets." 

"Come,  come,  Dunlarig,"  said  Glenvallich;  "you  do 
yourself,  and  all  of  us,  injustice.  Highland  proprietors 
must  see  the  evil  of  this  demoralizing  practice  too  clear- 
ly, not  to  desire  to  put  a  stop  to  it:  surely  no  increase  of 
rent  can  compensate  for  the  deterioration  of  principle  in 
the  tenantry  produced  by  it?" 

"Well,  well,  Glenvallich,"  replied  Dunlarig,  laughing, 
"I  certainly  sha'nt  dispute  that;  it's  a  very  proper  feel- 
K  2 


114  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

in^,  no  doubt,  especially  for  large  proprietors,  but  little 
lairds  like  us  must  sometimes  be  excused  for  looking  af- 
ter our  interests  and  gettine:  our  rents  as  we  can.  And 
after  all,  what  is  it  to  me  who  buys  my  corn,  if  I'm  well 

{)aid  for  it?  A  chield  comes  to  my  barn-door  with  a 
lorse  and  cart,  claps  the  money  in  my  fist,  and  walks  oft* 
with  the  bolls;  am  I  to  ask  where  it  goes,  or  what  he 
does  with  it?" 

"And  are  all  the  officers  of  government  equally  ineffi- 
cient?" demanded  Tresham,  who  felt  that  he  had  touched 
on  tender  ground,  and  wished  to  change  the  subject;  "do 
they  never  contrive  to  bring  these  breakers  of  the  law 
to  their  senses?" 

"O  yes!"  replied  Dunlarig,  "that  they  do,  and  some- 
times there's  no  want  of  broken  heads.  If  the  lads  of  a 
glen  ^et  their  horns  out  too  far,  and  vex  the  excise, 
they'll  send  a  whole  posse  of  riding  officers  and  revenue 
cur.ter's  men,  or  perhaps  a  squad  of  soldiers  to  harry  the 

flen,  and  search  every  house  in  it;  but  sometimes  I've 
nown  them  meet  their  match  too." 
"Aye,  by  my  faith,  that  they  do!"  said  Bally  tully,  who 
seldom  spoke,  but  who  drank  in  every  word  that  was 
said  with  keen  attention,  warming  as  the  conversation 
advanced,  no  less  from  the  potations  of  his  favourite 
liquor,  than  from  his  interest  in  the  subject.  Aye,  the 
filthy  cattle!  they  do  whiles  get  what  they  deserve;  for 
my  part,  I  would  as  soon  see  a  wolf  in  a  Highland  glen, 
as  one  of  these  officers  or  cutter's  men.  But,  d — n  them! 
they  sometimes  catch  it,  as  ye  say,  Dunlarig.  I  mind  a 
splore  of  that  kind  in  the  braes  of  Glenfarrach,  when 
they  got  hold  of  Red  John  Roy  of  Knockspeidh;  it  was 
afore  your  time,  Glenvallich.  His  son  Donald,  poor  lad! 
got  a  wicked  cut  in  the  head,  he  never  got  right  the  bet- 
ter of  it.  But  one  of  the  excise  died  of  the  licking  he  got, 
and  there  was  some  other  bloody  noses  besides.  John 
himself,  poor  fellow!  was  sent  off  to  the  plantations,  for 
there  v/as  never  a  friend  to  speak  up  for  him;  and  what 
became  of  his  wife,  I  never  heard.  She  left  the  country 
with  her  two  bairns  to  go  after  him,  she  said,  but  "we 
never  heard  more  of  her." 

"Aye,  Bally  tully,  that  was  a  sad  business,  and  they 
say  John  was  hardly  used, — I  don't  know.  But  there  was 
a  wilder  business  than  that,  near  the  same  part  of  the 
country,  and  not  much  longer  ago  neither.  Pm  sure  ye 
mind  of  black  Murphy,  the  Irish  chap  that  lived  at  Bal- 
lenstree.  He  quarrelled  with  Finlay  Oag,  a  lad  of  Strath- 
Cuillichj  Murphy  took  some  liberties  with  a  lass  that 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  115 

Finlay  was  courtinor,  and  Finlay  swore  he  would  make 
'him  repent  of  it.  Murphy,  Mr.  Tresham,  was  a  mad 
sort  of  an  Irishman — a  cast  coachman  or  groom,  he  was, 

of  Lord 's,  who  got  him  a  place  in  the  Excise,  just 

to  be  quit  of  him.  He  was  a  big  stout  black-looking  fel- 
low, that  blustered  and  swore  a  great  deal,  and  was  the 
devil,  they  said,  among  the  girls. 

"But  Finlay  Oag  was  not  the  lad  to  be  daunted  either 
by  his  looks  or  his  words.  The  gauger  was  beset  one 
day,  not  very  far  from  his  own  house,  by  two  stout  fel- 
lows, who,  while  they  belaboured  him  with  their  cudgels, 
told  him  to  mend  his  manners  if  he  had  a  mind  to  sleep 
in  a  whole  skin.  Murphy  had  a  fair  guess  to  whom  he 
owed  the  favour;  he  said  nothing  however,  but  set  his 
spies,  and  managed  to  get  word  when  Finlay  was  throng 
with  a  fine  brewst  of  barley  in  the  Glaikbui.  at  the  head 
of  the  Strath.  And  off  went  the  gauger,  with  three  or 
four  fellows,  that  he  got  for  the  purpose,  from  the  town, 
to  seize  the  stuff  and  the  tools. 

''But  the  boys  of  Strath-Cuillich  were  not  just  so  easily 
to  be  caught  napping;  and  Murphy  had  scarcely  turned 
the  black  craggan,  that's  at  the  foot  of  the  Strath,  when 
the  alarm  was  given,  and  offset  two  prochahs*  to  warn 
every  still  that  was  going  through  the  place.  By  the 
time  they  got  to  the  Glaikbui,  the  whiskey  and  the  still 
was  off,  and  the  people  were  carrying  off  the  lames  and 
porae  malt  that  had  been  left.  'On  them,  and  follow 
boys,'  roared  Murphy,  and  the  men  started  forwards  to 
get  hold  of  the  things,  and  of  those  that  were  carrying 
them  ofi;  but  Finlay  himself,  and  one  or  two  others,  stood 
their  ground  and  opposed  the  e-augers  while  the  women 
carried  off  the  rest  of  the  stuflT  The  Excise  lads  did  not 
like  the  job  too  much,  it  seems;  and  Murphy  was  forced 
to  return  with  little  profit,  blackguarding  his  men  for 
cowards,  and  swearing  bloody  vengeance  against  Finlay 
Oag,  as  a  notorious  smuggler,  who  had  resisted  the  Ex- 
cise officers  in  the  execution  of  their  duty.  The  conse- 
quence was,  that  a  warrant  was  issued  for  apprehending 
him,  and  MurT>hy  himself  was  charged  with  seeing  i4 
carried  into  effect.  But  Murphy  knew  enough  of  his  man 
to  be  certain  that  this  would  be  no  easy  job,  so  five  stout 
seamen,  from  an  Excise  cutter,  strongly  armed,  were 
placed  under  his  charge,  and  with  these  he  proceeded 
up  the  glen,  in  full  confidence  of  success. 

"But  Finlay  was  a  lad  well  liked  in  the  Strath,  and  his 

♦  Boys. 


Il6  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

friends  determined  that  if  the  ganger  and  his  men  did 
get  hold  of  him,  it  should  not  be  for  nothing.  If  they  had 
been  contented  with  secreting  him  for  a  while,  or  it  Fin- 
lay  himself  had  been  wise,  the  breeze  might  have  blown 
by  harmless,  and  things  would  have  done  well  enough. 
But  he  was  too  high-spirited  to  skulk,  and  perhaps  the 
lads  of  the  Strath  thought  they  might  as  well  give  Mur- 
phy a  fright  that  would  sicken  him  of  such  pranks,  and 
keep  the  ))lace  free  of  him  for  the  future. 

"However  that  was,  the  parly  did  not  get  np  to  the 
braes  of  the  Strath  unseen  or  unheard  of.  Finlay  and 
his  friends  ^ot  early  word,  and  they  prepared  to  receive 
their  enemies.  When  they  came  to  the  bothy  in  Glaik- 
bui,  fin't  a  thing  did  they  find  but  the  bare  walls,  and 
some  bits  of  the  tubs  and  casks  that  had  been  broken  the 
time  before.  'The  villain  must  be  hiding  further  up  the 
glaik,'  said  Murphy,  'we'll  have  a  search  there,  any 
how,  first,'  and  knowing  something  of  the  ground,  he 
pushed  at  once  up  the  dark  hollow  behind  the  bothy. 

"There  was  a  narrow  pass,  a  little  way  up,  where  the 
water  came  down  in  a  number  of  little  falls;  every  fall 
had  a  black  pool  at  the  bottom,  and  there  was  a  great 
deal  of  ragged  birch,  and  alder,  and  tall  fern  about.  As 
the  men  were  climbing  up  here  as  fast  as  they  could, 
they  heard  a  voice  calling  out,  'Oho!  Mr.  Murphy,  is  that 
you?  and  what  may  you  be  wanting  this  way?'  'Just 
your  own  four  handsome  quarters,  Mr.  Oag,'  replied 
Murphy,  looking  up  and  seeing  that  it  was  Finlay  him- 
self that  spoke;  'so,  please  come  down  from  your  perch, 
and  give  us  no  more  trouble,  you'd  best.'  'I'm  very  well 
a-s  I  am,  Mr.  Murphy,'  says  Finlay,  'but  if  you  can't  do 
without  me,  ye  must  just  come  and  take  me.'  'Aye,  my 
lad,  are  you  so  bould,  sure,'  says  Murphy;  'well,  we  must 
tame  ye.  I  say,  surrender  in  the  king's  name,  and  come 
quietly  down,  unless  you'd  rather  taste  a  lead  pill  to  cool 
your  courage.'  'I'm  much  obliged  to  ye,  man,'  replies 
Finlay,  'bat  keep  your  stuti'to  yourself  as  I  don't  need 
it;  ana  if  ye'll  take  my  advice,  be  out  of  this  as  fast  as  ye 
iike,  for  the  air  here's  no  good  for  your  health.  Leav.e 
us  poor  lads— aye,  and  lasses,  too,  alone,  or  ye  may  find 
yereself  the  worse  of  it;  mind  I  tell  ye.'  I  hav^e  heard 
them  that  were  there  say  that  it  made  their  blood  creep 
to  hear  these  two  daring  randies,  bully,  and  taunt,  and 
curse  each  other,  as  if  fhey  were  both  fey.  And  so  it 
seemed  they  were,  for  at  that  very  time,  neither  of  them 
had  many  minutes  to  live.  'B — st  his  eyes,  give  him  the 
lead,  and  finish  the  job,'  called  out  one  or  the  cutter's 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  117 

men,  in  a  surly  voice;  and  at  the  word,  Murphy,  tho- 
roughly mad,  tired  a  pistol  at  Finlay's  person.  A  taunt- 
ing laugh  was  the  only  reply,  as  he  disappeared  behind 
the  brow  of  the  bank  where  he  had  been  standing;  two 
other  shots  were  fired  as  he  went  off",  and  then  the  whole 
party  rushed  forward  to  try  to  intercept  his  further  flight. 

''It  did  not,  however,  appear  that  flight  was  his  object, 
for  when  the  first  man  got  over  the  bank,  and  that  was 
Murphy,  he  saw  Finlay  standing  upon  a  rock  in  the  bed 
of  the  burn,  just  above  one  of  the  little  falls,  with  an  old 
broadsword  in  one  hand,  and  a  stout  staff  in  the  other, 
as  if  he  had  been  afraid  or  unable  to  leap  the  rapid  stream 
that  run  between  him  and  the  other  side.  'By  the  great 
oath!  there  he  is  at  bay,'  cried  Murphy,  who  was  near  a 
dozen  yards  ahead  of  the  rest;  'seize  him,  boys;  five  gui- 
neas for  him  who  lays_  the  first  hand  on  him;'  and  he 
dashed  forward  to  enforce  his  comraaHd.  But  Finlay 
was  one  of  the  most  active  lads  in  the  country,  with  a 
step  as  light,  and  a  foot  as  sure  as  ever  went  through  a 
bog.  He  waited  till  Murphy  was  within  three  or  four 
paces  of  him,  'Ye  had  better  come  on,  man,  and  save 
your  five  guineas,'  said  he,  and  making  one  spring  to  a 
small  stone  in  the  centre  of  the  stream,  the  next  placed 
him  safely  on  the  other  side.  Murphy,  with  equal  bold- 
ness, but  less  skill  and  knowledge,  did  not  hesitate  to 
follow.  'Ye'U  be  the  better  o'  a  dooking-,  just  to  cool 
your  courage,'  said  Finlay,  with  an  eldrich  laugh,  and 
just  as  the  ganger  lighted  on  the  round  stone  in  the  mid- 
dle, he  shyed  the  heavy  staff  which  he  held,  with  so  good 
an  aim,  that  it  took  Murphy  right  across  the  shins,  and 
fairly  knocked  his  legs  from  under  him.  Down  he  came 
by  the  run,  with  his  head  foremost,  and  away  like  a  shot 
into  the  black  linn  below.  The  fall  was  of  no  great  height, 
but  there  was  many  a  hard  sharp  stone  in  the  way,  and 
that  the  ganger's  head  found  before  it  got  to  the  bottom. 
Finlay,  perhaps,  not  knowing  the  full  success  of  his  work, 
gave  a  loud  shout  of  triumph  as  Murphy  fell.  'By  Gr— d, 
the  Highland  cateran  has  done  lor  Murphy,'  roared  one 
of  the  sailors,  as  he  came  up,  and  just  saw  the  body  ris- 
ing to  the  surface  of  the  pool  below.  'Shoot  him!  d — n 
him— shoot  him;'  the  word  was  instantly  obeyed;  three 
or  four  pistol-shots  were  fired  across  the  burn,  and  Fin- 
lay Oag,  with  a  leap  two  yards  high  from  the  rock  where 
he  stood,  fell  dead  into  the  channel  of  the  stream:  he  was 
shot  clean  through  the  heart. 

"Finlay's  last  shout  might  have  been  a  signal  as  well  as 
a  cry  of  joy,  for  at  the  moment  six  or  eight  men,  some 


iii 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 


with  broadvswords,  and  some  with  g-uns,  started  up  from 
among  the  fern  and  brushwood,  just  in  time  to  see  their 
comrade  fall.  They  gave  a  yell  of  anger,  and  rushed 
upon  the  cutter's  men,  who  on  their  sideV  exasperated  at 
the  loss  of  their  officer,  turned  too  with  their  pistols  and 
cutlasses,  and  a  stout  battle  began,  both  parties  dashing 
through  the  water  to  get  at  one  another  as  each  gave 
ground  or  advanced.  The  cutter-men  at  length  were 
forced  to  fly,  for  even  the  women  pelted  them  with  large 
stones,  and  they  were  all  wounded,  one  of  them  de*;pe- 
rately,  who  was  carried  off  by  his  companions.  There 
was  another  of  the  Highlanders  killed  by  a  pistol  shot, 
and  one  or  two  more  got  wipes  from  a  cutlass. 

"Poor  Pegsry,  Finlay's  sweetheart,  w±o  was  along 
with  the  people  of  the  Strath,  ran  shrieking  to  the  body 
of  her  lover,  and  was  found  half-distracced,  clasping  it  in 
her  arms,  and  drenched  with  the  blood  that  poured  from 
his  wound.  As  for  the  body  of  Murphy,  it  was  after- 
wards found  so  disfigured,  that  no  one  could  say  how 
much  had  been  <3one  by  the  rocks  and  the  water,  and 
what  by  the  exasperated  Strath'smen.  Finlay  Oag  had 
a  grand  wake,  and  more  whiskey  was  drank  at  his  burial 
than  had  been  made  at  his  three  last  brewings.  As  for 
Murphy,  he  was  buried  in  a  kind  of  out-shot  of  the  parish 
churchyard,  with  just  as  little  attention  as  could  decently 
be  given. 

"The  business  made  a  great  noise  at  the  time;  but  go- 
vernment had  something  else  to  fash  with  than  the  death 
of  a  guager,  who  had  brought  the  weight  of  it  partly-  on 
himself;  and  recruits  were  greatly  needed  at  the  time, 
and  severe  measures  would  have  been  very  unpopular, 
especially  as  the  principal  culprit  was  dead.  So  tfiere  was 
an  examination  and  precognitions  taken,  but  the  thing 
was  never  carried  farther.  The  place  where  the  fray 
took  place  was  ever  since  called  the  'Irishman's  step;' 
and  the  people  still  look  upon  it  with  a  kind  of  horror, 
and  they  show  a  red  mark  on  some  of  the  rocks,  which 
thev  assure  any  one  who  takes  the  trouble  to  look  at  it, 
is  the  blood  of  Finlay  Oag,  which  neither  rain  nor  snow 
can  wash  out,  nor  time  destroy— but  that's  all  nonsense, 
I  need  not  tell  you,  Mr.  Tresham." 

"Aye,"  said  Airdruthmore,  "there  would  be  no  end 
to  stories  of  tidzies  between  guagers  and  smugglers  in 
the  ^lens  and  at  the  stills.  Your  true  Highlander  en- 
tertains a  natural  aversion  to  an  exciseman,  as  strong 
as  a  Skye  terrier  to  a  brock  or  a  foumart;  and  many  a 
plisky  will  Donald  play  him,  even  when  there's  not  much 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  119 

anger  in  the  case.  I  remember  hearing  once  of  one  of 
that  hated  fraternity,  a  riding-  officer  he  was,  who  some- 
how or  other  had  tbund  his  way  far  ben  into  Glen  Shli- 
chard  itself  He  was  not  long  of  being  met  with,  and  as 
soon  discovered  to  be  a  stranger  to  tne  country.  The 
good  folks  were  wonderfully  civil;  took  him  into  a  place 
which  he  supposed  to  be  a  public  house,  and  plied  him 
with  strong  whiskey  so  artfully  and  rapidly,  that  the  man 
got  mortalJn  a  hurry.  They  then  took'  him,  tied  him 
like  a  sackfftross  his  horse,  drove  it  a  little  distance  from 
the  place,  and  then  giving  it  a  hearty  skelpt,  left  it  to 
find  its  own  way  home.  How  it  got  through  the  intrica- 
cies of  the  path  no  one  living  can  tell;  but  next  morning 
it  was  ibund  picking  the  grass  near  the  place  from 
whence  the  man  had  procured  it,  witli  its  burthen  half- 
dead,  and  still  whole  stupid,  on  its  back.  That  fellow 
never  scented  the  air  of  Glen  Shlichard  again." 

"Your  story  puts  me  in  mind  of  an  incideni  which  hap- 
pened to  myself  not  many  years  ago,"  said  Glenvallich. 
"I  was  riding  with  a  friend,  who  understood  Gaelic,  and 
who  kncAv  the  country  and  its  customs  better  than  I  then 
did,  along  the  north  bank  of  Loch-Ness,  where  the  road 
has  in  some  places  been  carried  along  the  face  of  a  pre- 
cipice, and  you  see  the  waters  of  the  lake  just  under  you 
a  great  way  below,  black  with  extreme  depth,  and  boom- 
ing against  the  rocks.  We  had  passed  a  train  of  shel- 
ties,  each  loaded  with  its  brace  of  ankers,  which  my 
friend  soon  discovered  to  be  'mountain  dew'  on  its  way 
to  Lochaber — indeed  the  people  who  knew  him.  made  no 
difficulty  in  admitting  the  fact,  and  laughed  while  they 
did  so.  We  pursued  our  course,  and  after  going  on  a 
mile  or  two,  at  a  very  alarming  part  of  the  road,  we  met 
another  party  con.^iisting  of  four  or  five  persons,  preced- 
ing and  surrounding  one  individual  who  seemed  'very 
particularly  drunk,'  and  was  only  kept  upon  his  horse  by 
the  united  efforts  of  two  of  the  number,  who  rode  one  on 
each  side  of  the  horse:  these  were  followed  by  another 
person  who  brought  up  the  rear,  and  closed  the  singular 
procession.  AVith  this  person  my  companion  entered 
into  conversation  while  I  rode  on.  He  soon  rejoined  me 
laughing,  'Wiio  were  your  friends?'  said  I,  'they  seem  to 
be  a  merry  set  at  least.'  'Why,'  replied  he,  'you  will 
laugh  too,  in  spite  of  your  precise  notions,  Avhen  I  tell 
you  who  and  what  they  were.  The  man  you  saw  so 
well  attended  was  the  guager  of  the  district  going  to 
search  for  and  seize  the  very  whiskey  which  we  met  a 
little  way  behind;  and  his  attendants  are  the  owners  of 


120  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

this  very  whiskey,  with  some  of  their  neighbours,  who 
have  gone  to  see  it  safe  to  its  destination.  Some  of  them 
having  heard  of  the  guager's  intended  expedition,  went 
to  meet  him,  and  waylaying  him  near  a  pubUc-house, 
cooked  up  a  plausible  story,  and  inveigled  him  in,  under 
pretence  of  giving  him  information.  He,  anxious  to  get 
it,  fell  into  the  snare,  and  in  seeking  to  elicit  intelligence, 
drunk  so  much,  that  a  little  more  made  him  fou  enough. 
In  the  meantime  the  whiskey  passed  on,  and  they  still 
keeping  up  the  farce  of  informers,  rode  on  with  him,  in 
the  very  direction  their  whiskey  had  gone  in,  always  tak- 
ing care  to  stop  at  every  open  door,  until  he  became  as 
you  see.  The  whiskey  in  the  course  of  another  hour 
will  be  safe  through  a  pass  of  which  they  know,  a  little 
on  this  side  of  Fori  Augustus,  and  the  man  will  then  pro- 
ceed on  a  wrong  scent,  if  he  does  not  lie  down  on  the 
roadside  to  sleep  off  his  debauch.  'And  what  if  his  pre- 
sent good  humour  gives  way,'  said  I  to  the  man,  'before 
the  whiskey  is  safe?  What  if  the  fellow  should  insist  on 
pushing  onwards,  or  become  otherwise  troublesome?' 
'Ou.  then,'  said  the  fellow,  making  a  very  significant 
gesture  with  his  head  towards  the  black  water  that  was 
toaming  below — 'Ou,  then,  the  loch's  deep.^  " 

"A  portentous  conclusion  indeed,"  observed  Mr. 
Ross;  "and  one  T  do  really  fear  these  misguided  men 
would  not  have  scrupled  to  come  to,  had  the  case  seem- 
ed in  their  opinion  to  require  it:  and  this  by  no  means 
from  any  general  indifference  to  the  life  of  a  human  be- 
ing, but  purely  from  their  habitual  detestation  of  the 
whole  race  of  excise  officers,  and  a  sort  of  tacit  impres- 
sioa  that  no  violence  against  the  revenue  or  its  officials 
is  a  crime.  It  is  a  state  of  things  certainly  most  deeply 
to  be  lamented,  but,  considering  all  circumstances, 
scarcely  to  be  wondered  at  when  we  take  into  view  the 
ignorance  and  poverty  of  the  people,  and  the  severity  of 
a  law,  which,  to  their  unenlightened  mind,  appears 
harsh  and  unequal.  Even  the  method  of  carrying  it  into 
effect  is  to  them  revolting;  for  it  does  not  unfrctiuently 
happen  that  persons  in  reality  innocent,  suffer  from  their 
connexion  with  the  guility;  and  assuredly  excise  punish- 
ments do  frequently  operate  in  a  manner  very  dispropor- 
tioned  to  the  moral  turpitude  of  the  offence  if  that  were 
to  be  measured  by  the  motives  of  the  respective  delin- 
quents, and  their  opportunities  of  mental  improvement. 
And  how  can  it  be  otherwise,  when  the  judges  of  the 
criminal  are  so  often  ignorant,  not  only  of  his  lan^-uage, 
but  of  the  circumstances  in  which  he  may  be  placed? 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  121 

Besides,  one  common  mode  of  punishment  is  by  fine — in 
default  of  paj^ment  of  whicli,  whether  from  obstinacy  or 
inability,  he  is  put  into  jail.  In  the  one  case  he  stays 
there  till  he  is  tired — in  the  other  till  they  tire  of  aliment- 
ing him,  wretchedly  as  that  is  done;  or  possibly  he  is  li- 
berated on  condition  of  paying-  a  proportion  within  a 
given  time.  And  what  is  the  consequence  of  this?  Why, 
the  moment  the  culprit  is  at  liberty,  he  returns  to  the 
very  practices  for  which  he  has  just  suffered,  because 
they  alone  afford  him  a  hope  of  being  able  to  pay  his  fine, 
or  of  recovering  his  losses.  And  so  away  he  works,  dou- 
ble tides  for  double  profits,  while  the  excise  officer,  if  he 
has  a  grain  of  compassion,  must  wink  hard  at  a  breach 
of  law  which  he  feels  to  be  necessary  to  the  poor  man's 
existence  and  hberty.  I  myself  knew  a  poor  fellow  who 
was  personally  innocent,  detained  for  near  a  year  in 
jail,  because  he  was  caught  by  a  party  of  officers  in  the 
whiskey  bothy  of  his  brother-in-law,  with  which,  however, 
he  had  no  connexion.  What  can  such  a  system  lead  to, 
but  further  demoralization,  recklessness,  and  despair?" 

"Bad  enough  assuredly,"  said  Tresham,  shaking  his 
head  with  an  expression  of  seriousness,  which  his  feel- 
ings did  not  belie;  "but  where's  the  remedy?" 

"I  fear,"  said  Mr.  Ross,  "the  remedy  must  depend 
upon  a  combination  of  means  which  cannot  be  all  at  once 
called  into  operation:  the  progress  of  education  will  do 
much,  for  it  will  open  the  eyes  of  the  people  to  the  moral 
guilt  of  their  ideas  upon  the  subject,  and  this  object 
should  be  had  in  view  both  in  the  schools  and  from  the 
pulpit.  The  influential  proprietors  of  the  country  should 
exert  their  power  towards  the  same  object;  but,  above 
all,  government  should  seek,  by  a  wise  modification  of 
its  excise  laws,  to  put  a  stop  to  the  illegal  trade,  in  the 
onlj^  efficient  way  that  can  be  adopted — that  of  encou- 
raging the  legal  distillers  to  make  such  a  spirit  as  will 
suft  the  market,  and  enabling  them  to  sell  it  at  a  price 
which  will  drive  the  smugglers  out  of  it.  And  till  this  be 
done,  penalties  and  restrictions  are  vain.  No  whiskey 
drinker  will  taste  that  harsh,  nauseous  spirit,  which  is 
made  in  the  large  stills,  while  he  can  get  the  small-still 
whiskey — a  pure,  wholesome,  aromatic  spirit,  which  at 
present  has  the  additional  advantage  of  being  as  much 
cheaper  as  it  is  better  than  the  other." 

But,  gentle  reader,  we  fear  that  we  have  already  tres- 
passed on  your  patience  too  far,  in  recording  so  much  of 
a  conversation  which  ma^  seem  better  suited  to  the 
pages  of  a  treatise  on  political  economy,  than  to  those  of 

VOL.  I.  L 


123  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

such  a  tale  as  we  may  have  given  thee  reason  to  look  for. 
We  would  remind  thee,  however,  of  the  objects  we  fairly 
professed  to  have  in  view  in  this  delectable  work,  and 
which  would,  we  conceive,  entitle  us  to  inflict  on  thee  a 
much  more  elaborate  and  lengthy  discussion,  had  such 
been  deemed  expedient  to  our  purpose.  But  we  scorn 
to  use  our  advantage;  and  therefore,  havin^-  enlightened 
thee  in  some  degree  as  to  the  condition  of  the  country  in 
which  our  scene  has  been  laid,  we  will  spare  thee  the 
remainder  of  the  colloquy  in  question,  together  with  our 
own  profound  remarks  and  deductions  therefrom,  reserv- 
ing them  to  form  the  groundwork  of  a  very  learned  and- 
very  interesting  memoir  intended  for  the  consideration 
of  the  chancellor  of  his  majesty's  exchequer,  by  whom, 
we  doubt  not,  its  merits  will  be  duly  appreciated. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


A   HIGHLAND    "PREACHING." 

"The  plainest  roof  that  piety  can  raise, 
And  only  vocal  with  its  Maker's  praise." 

"You  will  attend  our  parish  church  to-day,  I  hope,  Mr. 
Tresham,"  said  Mrs.  Mac  Alpine,  as  the  party  sat  at 
breakfast  on  the  Sunday  after  the  conversation  so  faith- 
fully detailed  in  our  last  chapter.  "It  is  our  sacrament 
Sunday,  and  independent  of  the  more  solemn  duties  of 
the  day,  you  will  witness  a  spectacle,  which,  if  you  never 
saw  a  Highland  congregation  on  such  an  occasion,  you 
will  allow,  I  think,  to  be  both  novel  and  pleasing." 

"Certainly,"  replied  Tresham;  "I  should  wish  to  ac- 
company you,  madam,  were  there  no  other  inducement 
than  the  simple  service  ol*  the  Scottish  church,  which, 
though  strangely  shorn  of  its  honours,  I  own  pleases  me 
from  its  primitive  solemnity.    You  go  of  course?" 

"I  do.  Although  by  birth  and  education  of  the  church 
of  England  communion,  there  appears  to  me  so  little 
fundamental  difference  in  spirit  or  in  doctrine  between 
the  two  modes  of  worship,  that  I  never  dreamt  of  hesi- 
tating to  attend  in  the  same  place  of  worship  where  my 


THE  HIGHLAXD  SMUGGLERS.  123 

husband  and  his  family  offered  up  their  prayers  to  their 
Maker.'^ 

"But  is  this  any  particular  occasion,  that  you  seem  to 
expect  an  extraordinary  congregation?" 

"Why,  it  is  in  so  tar  an  extraordinary  occasion,  that  it 
occurs  but  twice  in  the  year.  The  'preachings'  or  sacra- 
ment,  as  it  is  emphatically  called  in  this  country,  is  ad- 
ministered only  so  often  in  each  year  in  the  Scottish 
Presbyterian  church,  and  consequently  great  numbers 
assemble  at  such  times  to  witness  or  partake  of  it." 

''Why,  yes,"  observed  Glenvallich,  "the  assemblies 
are  certainly  large;  for  not  contented  with  attending  at 
the  times  appointed  by  the  kirk  and  presbyteries  in  their 
respective  parishes,  and  which  doubtless  are  b>  these 
authorities  deemed  sufficient  for  the  celebration  of  this 
sacred  institution,  the  great  bulk  of  the  people  hold  it 
their  duty,  or  make  it  their  pleasure,  to  flock  to  every 
sacrament,  not  only  at  home,  but  at  every  parish  far  and 
near  within  reach:  and  as  these  are  commonly  arranged 
on  sequent  sabbaths,  for  a  full  month  and  more,  nothmg 
goes  on  during  that  time  but  attending  of  'preachings.' " 

"My  son,"  rephed  his  mother,  "you  would  not  surely 
deprive  the  poor  creatures  of  the  greatest  delight  and 
solace  of  their  lives?  Think  how  hard  they  work  at 
other  times,  and  how  grateful  a  few  days  of  rest  and 
instruction  must  be  to  them." 

"No  mother,"  replied  Glenvallich:  "far  be  it  from 
me  to  deprive  or  seek  to  stint  them  of  the  smallest 
portion  of  true  religious  comfort.  If  I  could  believe 
this  wandering  on  the  highways,  and  flocking  to  the 
churchyards,  was  beneficial  either  to  the  souls  or  bodies 
of  these  poor  creatures,  I  should  be  the  last  to  raise  my 
voice  or  my  opinion  against  it.  It  is  because  I  see  these 
holy  meetings  made  little  better  than  ploys  of,  and 
religion  in  so  many  cases  made  the  cloak  for  idleness 
and  amusement — aye,  for  licentiousness  and  debauch- 
ery, that  I  would,  if  possible,  put  a  stop  to  the  abuse, 
and  call  upon  those  who  feel  the  same  to  act  in  hke 
manner." 

"I  am  aware  of  your  sentiments  on  this  subject,  my 
son,"  replied  his  mother;  "bat  I  cannot  altogether 
agree  with  them.  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  believe  that 
these  poor  people  have  any  other  than  good  motives 
for  their  attendance  upon  a  religious  institution,  how- 
ever frequent." 

"It  is  not  in  your  nature,  my  dear  mother,  to  believe 
other  than  good  of  your  fellow  creatures.  Nevertheless, 


124  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

were  the  secret  motives  of  many  of  them  laid  open,  I 
fear  you  would  see  cause  to  alter  your  opinion  on  this 
subject.  If  people  attended  the  sacred  institutions  in 
question,  solely  with  the  devout  purpose  of  making 
public  profession  of  the  faith  they  hold,  of  their  sense 
of  their  own  sinfulness,  their  trust  in  their  Saviour,  and 
the  resolution  to  amend  their  lives  for  the  future,  it 
would  be  only  a  fitting  and  proper  discharge  of  a  por- 
tion of  their  Christian  duty;  and  though  unnecessary 
to  repeat  these  declarations  from  parish  to  parish,  the 
act  would  at  least  be  innocent,  if  not  absolutely  praise- 
worthy. But  what  is  the  true  state  of  the  case?  Of 
the  multitude  that  attend  the  "preachings,"  as  they  are 
called,  or  rather  who  come  drest  in  their  gayest  apparel, 
to  sit  upon  the  tombstones,  or  lounge  about  the  church- 
yard, how  few  ever  dream  of  approaching  the  sacred 
table  ?  On  the  contrary,  how  many  are  there  who  have 
no  other  object  in  view  than  to  be  entertained  as  they 
would  expect  to  be  at  any  other  gay  meeting — to  see 
and  to  be  seen?  How  many,  as  we  hear  of  the  Hindoos 
at  their  fairs,  resort  to  this  assembly  for  purposes  of 
amusement  and  merry-meeting,  if  not  of  trade  and  busi- 
ness, fully  as  much  as  of  piety  and  religious  duty?  How 
many  go  even  yet  further,  and  waste  time,  and  health, 
and  substance,  in  the  loose  company  and  dissipati9n 
which  abound  in  the  vicinity,  attracted  by  the  promis- 
cuous crowd!  Nay,  of  those,  who  believe  themselves 
to  be  honestly  following  the  impulse  of  religious  feeling, 
how  many  are  there  among  the  multitude,  who,  unable 
to  approach  either  pulpit  or  tent,  remain  beyond  all 
reach  of  hearing,  patiently  sitting  in  wind  or  rain,  to 
the  infinite  detriment  of  their  body,  and  certainly  re- 
ceiving no  spiritual  advantage  whatever.  Even  if  they 
should  hear,  and  understand  every  word  that  is  said — 
can  we  imagine  them  to  receive  much  mental  benefit 
from  the  repetition,  day  after  dr.y,  for  a  whole  conse- 
cutive season,  of  the  same  discourses,  uttered  with  little 
variation  in  every  neighbouring  parish?  I  will  refrain 
from  making  any  observation  on  the  ill  consequences  of 
so  long  an  interruption  of  the  common  business  of  life, 
as  is  I'requently  caused  by  attending  the  continued  suc- 
cession of  these  preachings — which  occur  sometimes  at 
most  critical  seasons  of  the  year— because  it  might 
savour  too  much  of  mingling  sordid  motives  with  the 
pure  and  disinterested  considerations  which  alone  should 
mfluence  our  thoughts  on  such  a  subject.  Yet  surely  it 
is  blameable  to  treat  with  indifference  the  bounty  of  the 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  125 

Almighty;  nor  is  the  indiscreet  zeal  to  be  commended, 
which  even  for  the  purpose  of  praising  the  giver,  ne- 
glects the  gifts;  and  have  we  not  frequently  seen  the 
precious  harvest  time  lost,  and  the  food  of  the  people 
suffered  to  go  waste  while  they  were  engaged  in  the 
way  we  epeak  of?" 

'"I.would  not  interrupt  you,  my  son,"  replied  his  mo- 
ther, "for  I  fear  there  is  unfortunately  too  much  truth 
in  a  great  part  of  what  you  have  alleged.  But  though  I 
must  admit  the  frivolous  or  unworthy  motives  of  many, 
the  censure  chiefly  applies  to  the  young  and  thought- 
less; we  cannot  upon  any  similar  principle  account  lor 
the  abstinence  of  the  pious  and  the  aged  from  the  holy 
rite;  and  yet  it  is  not  less  a  fact,  that  such  do  equally 
witfi  the  less  worthy,  decline  approaching  the  table. 
This  is  a  singular  and  lamentable  fact.  The  High- 
landers are  generally  a  serious  and  religious  people.  I 
have  talked  with  many  of  them  on  this  subject,  and 
while  grieving  over  their  ignorance  and  misconceptions, 
I  could  not  help  respecting  their  sincerity  and  humility. 
It  is  not  that  they  entertain  any  doubts  either  regarding 
the  tenets  of  that  faith  which  they  profess,  or  of  the 
propriety  and  even  efficacy  of  the  solemn  rite  to  which 
the^'  are  invited;  it  is,  I  assure  you,  my  dear  son, 
entirely  from  a  dread  of  their  own  unworthiness,  that 
the:^  do  not  dare  approach  the  hoi  v  table.  Their  imagi- 
nations are  more  impressed  by  the  awful  and  majestic 
attributes  of  the  Almighty  than  by  his  goodness  and 
mercies;  and  it  is  a  task  of  inconceivable  difficulty  to 
open  their  eyes  to  the  truth;  to  convince  them,  that  the 
lowliest  and  humblest  of  mankind  have  an  equal  interest 
in  the  blessings  of  salvation  with  the  mightiest  and  most 
prosperous — that  our  Saviour  died  to  save  the  most 
sinful  as  well  as  the  most  righteous,  provided  they  are 
sincere  in  their  penitence  and  their  trust  in  him.  Jt  is 
not  by  addressing  the  poor  and  ignorant  once  a  week 
from  the  pulpit,  or  even  by  the  more  pointed  and  oc- 
casional discourses  which  are  delivered  before  admi- 
nistering the  sacrament,  that  such  errors  are  to  be  recti- 
fied, and  a  suitable  confidence  in  the  divine  grace  and 
mercy  inspired.  It  is  only  by  entering  their  secret 
councils,  by  detecting  the  anxieties,  the  doubts,  or  the 
ignorances  which  cloud  their  reason  or  harass  their 
minds,  that  results  so  desirable  are  to  be  attained;  and 
blessed  is  the  pastor  who  avails  himself  of  his  privilege 
to  lig;hten  their  darkness,  and  pour  the  radiance  of 
gospel  truth  upon  their  souls,  to  seek  the  remote  and 
l2 


126  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

desolate  dwellings  of  the  poor,  and  to  comfort  them 
with  the  glad  tidings  of  ealvation." 

''And  most  sincerely,  mother,  do  I  wish  that  such 
pastors  abounded  even  more  than  they  do — for  that 
many  such  exist  it  were  most  unjust  as  well  as  most 
uncharitable  to  doubt.  We  shall  at  all  events  attend 
you  to-dav,  in  love  and  charity  with  all  mankind;  my 
friend  will,  I  doubt  not,  hear  an  excellent  discourse; 
and  the  sight  itself  can  scarcely  fail  of  pleasing  him." 

To  church  accordingly  they  went.  It  was  situated 
about  six  miles  from  Inverallich,  in  a  little  glen  which 
opened  on  the  lake,  and  upon  a  promontory,  the  foot  of 
which  was  washed  by  a  copious  burn.  High  rocky  hills 
arose  on  either  hand,  whose  skirts  were  spriiikled  with 
oak  copse,  and  weeping  birch.  The  church  itself  was 
one  of  those  antique  reliques  of  Catholicism,  of  which 
there  are  few  now  extant  in  Scotland;  and  which  pro- 
bably owed  its  preservation  from  the  fury  of  bigotry, 
not  less  to  the  prevalence  of  the  persecuted  religion  m 
that  part  of  the  country,  than  to  its  remote  situation, 
at  a  time  when  so  many  nobler  fabrics  crumbled  into 
ashes  before  the  trantic  breath  of  the  reformers. 

It  occupied  a  rocky  knoll,  higher  than  the  rest  of  the 
promontory  above  spoken  of,  and  was  built  in  the  form 
of  a  cross.  It  was  neither  lody  nor  spacious;  but  its 
gray  walls,  and  grayer  roof,  spreckled  with  lichens  of 
bright  yellow — its  old-fashioned  spire  rising  from  the 
centre — its  curious  gothic  buttresses  and  narrow  lancet- 
shaped  windows,  and  above  all,  the  two  magnificent 
trees,  an  ash  and  a  sycamore,  which  almost  oversha- 
dowed the  whole  fabric  with  a  canopy  of  boughs,  gave 
it  an  air  of  venerable  seclusion,  which  could  not  fail  of 
attracting  the  attention  of  every  passer  by. 

The  churchyard  which  surrounded  it,  and  which  oc- 
cupied the  remainder  of  the  promontory,  was  in  perfect 
harmony  with  the  building  itself.  It  was  adorned  by 
many  noble  trees  of  the  same  hardy  sorts;  and  one  cor- 
ner in  particular,  overhanging  a  precipice  above  the 
burn,  was  tenanted  by  a  group  of  tihree  old  Scotch  firs, 
which  threw  their  aged  and  twisted,  but  vigorous  arms, 
about  in  uncontrolled  magnificence.  A  colony  of  rooks 
had  from  time  immemorial  taken  up  their  abode  in  these 
trees,  and  would  impudently  mingle  their  ceaseless  caw- 
ing with  the  exhortations  of  the  good  minister  to  his 
parishioners  within  doors,,  as  if  to  dispute  with  him  the 
palm  of  garrulity. 
The  area  of  the  inciosure  was  of  itself  highly  pictu- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  127 

resque  from  its  variety  of  surface,  its  old  gray  -wall, 
overgrown  with  moss  and  houseleek,  and  its  curious  old 
cemeteries,  and  monuments  of  the  i'amilies  who,  for 
ages  past,  had  there  interred  their  dead.  Heavy  fabrics 
were  to  be  seen,  with  their  balustraded  walls,  and  half- 
rotten  gateways,  within  which  the  broad  moss-grown 
slabs  of  free-stone  on  their  high  supports,  stood  smother- 
ed among  weeds  and  nettles,  emblematic,  alas!  of  the 
sorrows  and  calamities  which  had  overwhelm.ed  the 
race  whose  bones  lay  there  decaying.  Near,  as  if  in 
contrast,  if  not  in  mockery,  of  the?e  tokens  of  decay, 
rose  the  trim  polished  walls  and  spruce  iron  railing  of  a 
far  more  modern  cemetery.  Its  state  of  perfect  repair, 
the  greater  portion  of  unoccupied  ground  which  it  con- 
tained, and  the  less  rank  vegetation  of  its  soil,  proclaim- 
ed it  as  the  chosen  resting  place  of  some  new  and  rising 
family,  whose  ranks  had  not  as  yet  been  thinned  by  the 
shafts  of  the  destroyer;  yet  the  sable  characters,  en- 
graved on  one  fair  marble  tablet,  told  of  a  tale  of  recent 
sorrow,  and  reminded  the  beholder  that  worldly  prospe- 
rity is  no  safeguard  against  the  stroke  of  fate. 

Antique  urns  of  ponderous  stone — slabs  of  massy  size, 
adorned  with  deaths'  heads  and  duck-winged  cherubims 
in  abundance — the  pride,  no  doubt,  of  som.e  rural  sculp- 
tor of  ancient  days,  reared  themselves  in  vain  above  the 
rank  grass,  to  tell  the  passer-by  what  a  half-eflaced  in- 
scription could  no  longer  declare — the  sorrow  of  some 
father,  or  some  husband,  or  some  bereaved  widow  long 
since  at  rest,  for  the  wife,  or  child,  or  husband  they  had 
lost — and  soon  followed  to  their  common  home.  Close 
by  these  venerable  monuments  appeared  the  head-stones 
that  commemorated  more  recent  departures — memo- 
rials of  those  who,  like  their  forefathers,  had  ceased 
from  their  labours,  to  giv^e  way  to  others,  who  in  their 
turn  would  soon  also  depart.  Green  hillocks  in  irregu- 
lar profusion  rose  on  either  side  the  pathway  which 
led  to  the  church  door,  and  were  thickly  spread  over 
every  unappropriated  space,  telling  in  emphatic  lan- 
guage how  busy  death  had  been  among  the  habitations 
of  the  poor:  and  many  a  fresh  laid  sod  betrayed  where 
the  ripe  fruit  as  well  as  the  fresh  blossom  had  been  torn 
from  the  bough.  The  .^razincr  of  some  privileged  cows 
sufficed  to  keep  short  the  turf  over  a  great  part  of  the 
churchyard;  but  in  some  places  the  rank  weeds  of  the 
soil  had  asserted  their  right  of  possession,  and  occupied 
all  the  more  retired  corners. 

Altogether  it  was  an  impressive  scene,  a  spot  which 


128  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

breathed  the  very  soul  of  seclusion  and  religious  retire- 
ment. Even  the  cawing  of  the  rooks,  and  the  unceasing 
rush  of  the  waters,  were  sounds  to  soothe  by  their  mo- 
notony, rather  than  otfend  the  contemplative  mind;  and 
the  deep  shadow  with  which  the  thick  foliage  of  the  sy- 
camores and  dark  pine  trees  chequered  the  ground, 
throwing  some  of  the  tombs  into  an  ominous  ^loom, 
while  others  started  out  in  a  wild  prominence  ot  li^ht, 
invested  the  place  with  a  character  of  peculiar  solemnity. 

At  the  lime  of  which  we  speak,  however,  it  wore  an- 
other aspect.  For  miles  around  on  either  side  the  roads 
leading  to  the  church  were  crowded  with  men,  women, 
and  children,  and  every  sort  of  vehicle  to  be  met  with  in 
a  Highland  district.  Carts,  coups,  and  one-horse  car- 
riages of  many  a  strange  form  and  rude  construction, 
with  horses,  shelties,  garrons,  and  every  description  of 
that  useful  quadruped,  which  the  country  supplies  for 
the  use  and  abuse  of  man,  streamed  along  each  lane  and 
alley  towards  the  church,  like  radii  to  their  centre. 
And  strange  and  various  as  their  grotesque  equipages, 
were  the  groups  which  they  contained.  Even  frequency 
of  repetition  cannot  destroy  the  charm  which  such  liv- 
ing pictures  possess  for  the  thinking  mind;  to  a  stranger, 
disposed  to  view  them  with  an  eye  of  something  more 
than  curiosity,  they  were  still  more  interesting;  and  as 
the  Inveraliich  party  approached  the  church,  the  atten- 
tion of  Tresham  was  strongly  arrested  by  the  various 
parties,  who  in  their  turn,  with  upcast  eyes  and  niouth 
agape,  bestowed  a  stare  of  lengthened  admiration  on 
the  gay  equipage  as  it  slowly  passed  along. 

In  one  cart,  of  coarse  but  solid  workmanship,  drawn 
by  a  stout,  cross  made  Highland  garron,  with  a  pound 
,of  hair  at  each  heel,  sat  a  group  of  lour  persons.  At 
the  end  next  the  horse's  tail,  and  upon  a  truss  of  the 
straw  with  which  the  cart  was  half  filled,  sat  bolt  up- 
right a  man  whose  hard  austere  features  had  borne  the 
blasts  of  lull  three  score  i\nd  five  winters,  or  more. 
The  unbending  rigidity  of  his  weather-beaten  counte- 
nance— the  formidable  nose — the  large  cheek-bones  ren- 
dered more  prominent  by  the  deep  sunk  furrows  in  his 
cheeks,  his  brow,  and  around  his  grim  mouth — the 
smooth  grizzled  locks  flowing  even  to  his  shoulders 
from  under  a  huge  broad-brimmed  blue  bonnet — the 
firml}'  constructed  and  heavy  brows,  which  yielded  not 
even  to  the  influence  of  the  Highland  courtesy  which 
prompted  a  stiff"  salute  to  the  party  as  they  passed  him: 
—all  these  formed  a  striking  sketch  of  the  formal  ana 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  129 

stern  but  honest  old  presbyterian.  A  thin  white  band 
encircled  his  slirivelled  neck:  a  coarse  blue  great  coat 
hung  over  his  shoulders,  but  so  loosely  as  to  srive  to 
view  the  plain  but  good  fresh  suit  of  the  same  Homely 
material  which  he  wore  beneath. 

Beside  him,  with  equal  stiffness,  sat  an  aged  female — 
out  of  all  question  his  wife;  for  in  her  harsh  forbidding- 
features  might  be  traced  the  reflection  of  her  good  man's 
downright  sternness.  And  yet  there  was  about  the 
aged  couple  somewhat  of  decent  sobriety  which  beto- 
kened worth  and  honesty,  however  deformed  by  harsh- 
ness and  austerity.  She  wore  the  stiff  starched  High- 
land toy  upon  her  head,  and  a  blue  duffle  cloak  enveloped 
her  bony  person. 

The  two  remaining  figures  wore  a  less  ungainly  as- 

Eect.  At  the  feet  of  the  man  sat  a  young  woman  of  staid 
ut  pleasing  features,  wearing  her  head  covered  aiier 
the  fashion  of  matrons,  and  bearing  in  her  arms  a  fur- 
ther pledge  of  the  connubial  state,  in  a  young  child 
which  she  held  wrapped  up  in  the  checked  cloak  that 
covered  her  own  shoulders.  On  the  other  side,  beneath 
the  grim  female,  a  young  girl  whose  round  but  modest 
face  and  timid  glances  betrayed  the  awe  in  which  she 
stood  of  the  stiff  and  motionless  figures  at  the  top  of  the 
cart,  shrunk  cowering  amongst  the  straw.  A  well  look- 
ing man  of  some  thirty  odd  years  of  age,  whose  dress 
displayed  a  mixture  of  the  Highland  and  Lowland  cos- 
tume, with  a  ^ray  plaid  thrown  over  his  shoulders, 
walked  by  the  side  of  the  horse,  acting  the  part  of  driver 
to  the  vehicle.  The  looks  which  ever  and  anon  he 
threw  back  towards  its  contents,  rather  than  any  word 
which  passed,  might  indicate  some  peculiar  interest  he 
took  in  its  contents. 

"You  remarked  that  old  man?"  said  Glen vallich  to  his 
friend,  as  they  passed  the  cart — "there  goes  a  true  blue 
Cameronian  of  the  ancient  school,  who  would  have  made 
an  active  and  valuable  instrument  in  the  hands  of  John 
Knox,  or  the  worthy  Richard  Cameron  himself.  John 
Macalvore,  or  rather  Grant,  for  the  other  is  but  a  patro- 
nymic, is  elder  of  a  neighbouring  parish,  and  of  course, 
a  most  regular  attendant  upon  all  preachings  within  his 
reach — I  marvel  how  he  happens  to  be  so  late  to-day. 
He  is  the  strictest  of  the  strict,  in  all  matters  pertaining 
to  religious  observance:  truly  'the  Presbyterian  sour;' 
but  nevertheless  a  very  worthy,  honest  man;  does  his 
duty  to  his  neighbour  and  family,  and  is  charitable,  good 
hearted,  and  even  kind,  after  a  fashion,  though  so  stern 


130  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

and  disagreeable.  John,  though  born  and  living  in  the 
Highlands,  entertains  somewhat  of  a  dislike  to  the  peo- 
ple of  the  country,  which  may  be  almost  termed  heredi- 
ta.ry,  as  the  persecutors,  in  old  times,  of  his  sect  and 
their  doctrines.  He  considers  himself  as  still  half  a  Low- 
lander,  and  will  not,  as  you  see,  condescend  to  wear  the 
farb  of  the  country,  nor  permit  his  family  to  do  so.  I 
elieve  he  even  quarrels  with  the  shape  and  former  uses 
of  our  ancient  and  picturesque  church,  and  regrets  that 
the  old  relbrmers  never  got  near  to  give  it  a  touch  of 
their  improving  hands;  he  would  greatly  prefer  one  of 
the  plain  ugly  harn-like  buildings  with  which  the  taste 
of  modern  heritors  have  replaced  the  ruins  of  the  old 
places  of  worship.  But  here  comes  a  party  of  a  very 
different  character." 

They  were  at  this  time  within  a  {"ew  yards  of  a  point, 
w^here  a  cart-track  that  might  be  seen  winding  for  a 
long  way  up  the  bare  hill  side,  fell  into  the  main  road. 
Like  the  rest,  it  was  sprinkled  with  human  figures,  and 
one  large  groupe  was  just  entering  the  road.  "We  will 
let  these  people  go  forward,"  said  Glenvallich,  "look  at 
them,  Tresham,  as  they  pass  on."  The  party  consist- 
ed of  some  eight  or  ten  persons,  some  on  horseback, 
others  on  foot,  and  a  few  in  a  strange,  nondescript 
species  of  cart.  The  principal  person  was  a  man  whose 
appearance  denoted  very  great  age.  His  hair  as  white 
as  snow,  blew  from  under  a  Highland  bonnet,  around  a 
countenance  still  fresh  and  hale  in  colour,  although  the 
numerous  wrinkles  which  furrowed  it,  bore  witness  to 
tlie  many  years  of  its  owner.  He  was  clad  from  top  to 
toe  in  gay  tartans;  an  ample  plaid  grave  breadth  and 
importance  to  his  upper  man,  but  instead  of  the  pheli- 
beg,  he  wore  a  species  of  trews,  and  the  purse  and  the 
dirk  which  hun^  at  his  waist,  denoted  his  strict  adhe- 
rence to  the  ancient  Higffland  costume.  He  was  mount- 
ed on  a  small  shaw'gy  sheltie,  or  pony,  the  furniture  of 
which  was  as  primitive  as  the  appearance  of  the  animal 
itself  or  its  rider;  for  the  saddle  was  a  crook-saddle, 
formed  of  birch  branches,  over  which  they  had  cast  an 
old  blanket;  in  place  of  bridle  there  was  only  a  halter  of 
twisted  birch  withies  to  direct  its  steps,  and  the  stirrups 
were  made  of  the  same  material.  The  old  man  bestrode 
his  little  nag  with  an  air  of  considerable  ease;  and 
though  age  had  bent  his  form,  it  still  retained  something 
of  a  military  cast.  But  his  strength,  perhaps,  did  not 
wholly  correspond  with  the  vigour  of  his  spirit,  for  a  lit- 
tle boy,  as  wild  as  the  animal,  with  feet  guiltless  of  hose 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  131 

or  shoon,  ran  at  its  head,  and  led  it  over  the  dangerous 
steps. 

On  either  side  of  this  remarkable  figure,  with  stately- 
step  and  cocked  bonnets,  walked  one  or  two  young  men 
in  full  Highland  costume  of  tartans  corresponding  with 
those  of  the  old  man.  These  were  followed  by  several 
other  rough-looking  fellows  with  matted  carroty  locks, 
kilts  and  plaids,  but  far  worse  set  on  than  the  others, 
and  having  neither  shoes  nor  stockings,  except  a  sandal 
of  rough  cow-hide,  which  some  of  them  had  tied  on. 
The  wildness  of  their  gaze  and  uncouthness  of  their 
general  appearance,  betrayed  how  much  out  of  their 
element  they  were,  so  far  down  the  glen.  Next  came 
five  or  six  women,  all  clad  in  the  most  primitive  fashion 
of  the  Highlands;  the  married  with  close  mutch-caps, 
covered  by  the  plaid  or  blanket,  which,  descending  on 
the  shoulders,  was  skewered  across  the  breast;  the  un- 
married with  their  long  red  locks,  smoothed  down  as 
best  might  be,  and  bound  round  with  the  maidenlv  snood 
of  blue  or  red  worsted — and  all  w^ith  bare  feet.  Last  of 
all  came  the  cart;  such  a  vehiclel  we  scarce  dare  at- 
tempt the  description!  From  head  to  tail  it  was  con- 
structed of  birch  branches,  framed  and  woven  like 
wicker  work,  guiltless  of  one  atom  of  iron  in  its  whole 
crasis.  Its  coarse,  crooked  shafts  -were  placed  upon  a 
wooden  axle,  around  which  revolved  two  wheels  like 
thin  cheeses,  made  out  of  solid  slabs  of  birch  wood,  bolted 
together  with  wooden  pins,  and  cut  into  figures  more 
approaching  that  of  the  polygon  than  of  the  circle.  The 
holes  through  which  the  axles  passed,  having  been 
widened  by  constant  friction,  the  wheels  waddled  and 
straddled  as  the  frail  engine  progressed,  now  separating 
and  now  approaching,  in  oblique  angular  lines  at  every 
revolution,  with  a  creaking  noise  that  was  audible  a 
mile  off:  and  one  of  the  slabs  having  somehow  been 
knocked  off,  the  wheel  was  reduced  to  the  larger  segment 
of  a  circle,  which  ever  and  anon  came  bump  to  the 
ground  on  its  flat  side,  with  a  blow  like  that  of  a  sledge 
hammer,  to  the  great  delectation,  no  doubt,  of  the  inside 

fassengers,  as  well  as  to  the  benefit  of  the  machine  itself. , 
f  to  this  be  added  the  infinite  variety  of  ground  which 
occurs  on  such  a  Highland  road,  the  multitude  of  stones 
of  all  shapes  and  sizes  scattered  over  its  surface,  the 
€arth-fast  rocks,  the  deep  rats,  the  sloughs,  the  bogs 
and  the  burns,  we  shall  be  qualified  to  form  some  idea 
of  the  quantum  of  comfort  enjoyed  by  the  individuals 
who  committed  their  persons  to  this  primitive  chariot. 


132  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

Yet  it  was  age  and  infirmity  that  had  submitted  them- 
selves to  so  rude  a  discipline.  The  cart  contained  two 
women  who,  if  appearances  were  to  be  trusted,  could 
neither  ol'  them  have  seen  less  than  three  score  and  ten 
years.  They  were  clad  like  the  rest  of  the  party,  in 
the  Highland  garb;  but  one  of  them  was  well  wrapped 
up  in  her  white  tartan  plaid,  which  was  fastened  across 
her  breast  by  a  silver  brooch  as  broad  as  a  small  plate: 
a  blanket  covered  the  heather  bunch  on  which  she  was 
seated,  and  her  wrinkled  countenance  was  not  deficient 
in  intelligence.  The  other  cowered  under  the  remnant 
of  an  old  tattered  plaid,  which  could  hardly  hide  the  rags 
beneath  it,  as  she  sat  at  the  lower  end  of  the  cart;  and 
her  dirty,  haggard,  sluggish  countenance — the  vacant 
eye  and  dropping  under-lip,  betrayed  the  mental  absence 
which  reigned  within.  Three  or  four  half-naked  and 
ragged  boys  and  ffirls  surrounded  the  vehicle,  and  drove 
on  the  miserable l)east  which  dragged  it,  endeavouring 
to  keep  it  up  as  nearly  as  possible  with  the  party  to 
which  it  belonged. 

"Failthery  macgilliecullach!  Failthery  agus  pea- 
nuichshee  Bhaintearn  Glenvallichf*  said  the  old  man 
with  a  cheerful  though  tremulous  voice,  and  taking  oft* 
his  bonnet  as  the  f)haeton  passed  his  party. 

''Failthery  Alaister  Failthery!'''  replied  Glenvallich, 
as  he  returned  the  salute.  "There  goes  a  true  old  Hign- 
lander  of  the  ancient  breed,"  continued  he,  "you  will 
not  see  many  like  him.  That  fine  old  fellow,  Tresham, 
who  is  now  near  ninety  years  of  age.  Alaister  Roy 
Breacach,  as  they  call  him,  was  at  the  battle  of  Cullo- 
den— on  the  losing  side  as  you  may  guess;  but  he  was 
one  of  those  who  had  the  wit  and  the  luck  to  get  off",  and 
he  returned  to  his  own  wild  home  in  the  hills,  about  ten 
miles  away  from  hence,  where,  like  his  fathers,  he  has 
since  passed  the  whole  of  his  days  on  a  miserable  croft 
upon  a  bleak  black  muir  with  grazing  for  a  few  black 
cattle  and  sheep,  surrounded  by  a  whole  colony  of  his 
own  progeny  and  kinsmen,  whose  king,  priest,  and  pro- 
phet almost,  he  is.  How,  in  the  rage  for  sheep  and  inno- 
vation, old  Alaister  contrived  to  hold  his  ground,  1 
hardly  can  tell;  but  he  is  patriarch  of  as  pretty  a  swarra 
of  black  bothies  and  wild  Highland  cearnachsas  you  can 
see  on  a  wild  hill  between  this  and  Cape  Wrath. 

"Alaister  Roy  Breacach  was  never  much  of  a  wan- 

*  "Health  to  Mac  Gilliecallum!  Health  and  blessings  on  the  wife 
ofGlenvalUch!" 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  133 

clerer  from  his  own  place,  and  his  age  now  keeps  him 
still  more  at  home,  so  that  it  is  only  on  great  occasions 
he  visits  the  low  country,  as  he  calls  this.  Yet  for  all  his 
appearance  here  to-day,  it  has  been  shrewdly  suspected 
that  Alaister  adheres  in  his  heart  to  the  Catholic  faith 
which  he  was  born  in;  although  for  reasons  strong  and 
cogent  he  long  ago  became  ostensibly  a  Presbyterian. 
When  he  does  'descend  from  his  mountains'  it's  never 
without  a  'taiV  such  as  you  see,  of  his  rabble  of  descen- 
dants— for  the  old  man  is  not  without  vanity,  and  speaks 
with  no  small  pride  of  the  number  of  'pretty  lads'  that 
turn  out  from  the  toon  of  Blairdhu.  It  is  said  that  the 
very  dress  he  wears  to-day  is  the  same  he  wore  when 
paraded  with  his  clan  before  the  Prince,  previous  to  that 
fatal  battle.  He  wears  it  only  on  great  occasions,  and 
says  it  shall  be  his  burying  sheet.  As  for  the  contents 
of  his  equipage,  they  consist  of  his  wife — his  third  by- 
the-bye — and  a  poor  old  decrepit  creature  who  subsists 
on  his  charitv  and  that  of  the  family,  and  who  insists  on 
coming  to  all  the  'preachings;'  she  is  unable  to  walk, 
and  therefore  he  gives  her  a  cast  with  his  spouse  in  that 
primitive  vehicle." 

"But  soft — here  is  something  of  higher  pretence  than 
ordinary,"  said  Tresham,  pointing  to  a  smart  green  tilt- 
cart  on  wooden  springs,  and  occupied  by  a  gay  groupe. 
"What  have  we  here?  On  my  word,  shawls,  bonnets, 
ribands  as  gay  as  May-day,  and  a  gallant  black  steed  too; 
and  what  a  pace  they  come  at — why  this  must  be  some 
'mighty  don,'  surely." 

"Aye,  a  mighty  don  in  v^erity,  as  some  have  cause  to 
know,"  replied  Glenvallich;  "that  is  no  less  a  person 
ihan  'honest  John  Rankin,'  the  exciseman,  and  his  fa- 
mily, of  whom  you  heard  such  honourable  mention  made 
but  the  other  day.  That  is  an  equipage  of  no  mean  sort, 
sir,  I  assure  you,  in  a  remote  place  like  this;  and  faith,  I 
almost  wonder  honest  John  does  not  keep  his  somewhat 
extraordinary  prosperity  more  out  of  public  view,  as 
they  say  the  subjects  of  eastern  kings  are  wont  to  do, 
lest  their  show  and  state  should  excite  the  suspicions  of 
their  sovereign,  and  provoke  a  squeeze  of  their  money- 
bags from  the  'king  of  kings.' " 

Endless  was  the  succession  of  groups  and  of  parties 
through  which  the  carriage  rolled  slowly  on,  the  crowd 
increasing  as  they  neared  the  church.  But  while  yet 
thev  gazed  upon  the  thronged  churchyard,  sparkling 
with  an  infinity  of  gay  colours,  the  restless  meiss  of  hu- 
man beings  settled  gradually  into  a  state  of  repose,  until 

VOL.  I,  M 


134  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

it  retained  but  that  flickerinff  movement  which  is  seen 
in  a  swarm  of  bees  as  they  cluster  on  a  boug^h,  or  in  the 
brilliant  plumag-e  of  a  bird  who  rustles  his  gay  feathers 
as  he  prunes  and  trims  them.  In  a  few  minutes  more  a 
sound  arose  upon  the  calm  air,  and  swelled  gradually 
upon  the  ear,  until  it  became  as  the  voiceof  a  great  mul- 
titude mellowed  and  sweetened  by  distance.  "It  is  the 
first  psalm,"  said  Mrs.  Mac  Alpine;  "listen,  how  sweet 
it  sounds  from  hence,  how  well  the  voices  all  arise  and 
swell  together!  such  is  the  magic  of  distance,  which, 
like  Christian  charity,  covereth  or  overlooketh  a  multi- 
tude of  imperfections.  It  would  be  well  if  we  all  took  a 
lesson  somewhat  oftener  than  is  done,  Irom  the  book  of 
nature,  which  is  always  open  betbre  us,"  added  she, 
smiling. 

They  entered  the  churchyard;  and  then  Tresham  did 
confess  that  the  spectacle  which  awaited  them  was  well 
worthy  of  his  attention.  The  whole  area  of  the  pictu- 
resque spot  which  we  have  attempted  to  describe,  was 
almost  filled  with  people,  men,  women,  and  children, 
crowded  together,  principally  in  one  large  mass,  but  also 
partially  clustered  in  lesser  groupes.  upon  every  wall, 
and  monument,  and  eminence  around,  to  which  their 
gay  dresses  of  tartan,  and  scarlet,  and  white,  predomi- 
r.aiing  over  the  graver  colours,  communicated  an  air  of 
infinite  liveliness  and  animation. 

The  windows  of  the  church,  which  on  account  of  the 
heat  were  thrown  open,  were  thronged  with  persons, 
v.'ho  being  unable  to  procure  admittance  to  the  interior, 
still  preferred  listening  at  these  apertures,  to  encounter- 
ing the  greater  crowd  which  surrounded  the  preacher 
wfthout.  The  doorways  and  entrances  were  yet  more 
beset;  and  so  dense  was  the  mass  of  heads  which  occu- 
pied the  passages  as  to  render  it  next  to  impossible  even 
for  privileged  people  to  obtain  access. 

But  the  character  and  arrangements  of  the  outdoor 
congregation  formed  by  far  the  most  striking  feature  of 
the  coiip  cPoeil.  Under  a  mighty  sycamore  free,  which 
formed  an  almost  impervious  shade  against  sun  and  rain, 
a  temporary  pulpit  had  been  erected,  in  Avhich  sat  a  re- 
spectable looking  clergy  man,  waiting  for  the  termination 
of  the  psalm  he  had  just  given  out;  and  this  psalm  was 
repeated,  line  after  line,  by  a  precentor  beneath  him,  for 
the  benefit  of  those  among  the  congregation  who  might 
not  be  able  to  read.  On  a  form  or  bench  in  front  of  this 
pulpit  sat  several  elders  of  this  and  other  parishes, 
grave,  sour-looking,  hard-featured  men,  and  aged,  as 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  135 

the  appellation  implies.  Benches  and  stools  as  well  from 
all  the  neighbouring  hamlets  as  from  the  stores  kept  for 
such  occasions,  were  eked  out  with  planks  and  boards 
collected  from  all  parts,  and  ranged  in  many  rows  on 
either  side,  stretching  far  in  front  of  the  pulpit,  until 
stopped  by  the  irregularity  of  the  ground;  and  on  these 
were  seated  all  who  were  able  to  avail  themselves  of  the 
accommodation.  An  old  Highland  crone  or  t-wo  might 
here  and  there  be  seen  tottering  from  the  nearer  dwell- 
ings under  the  incumbrance  of  her  well-worn  chair,  while 
behind  followed  a  curly-headed  grandchild  carrying  its 
little  creepy,  and  taking  advantage  of  the  courtesy  paid 
to  age,  to  press  forward  in  her  wake,  to  get,  if  possible, 
a  peep  at  "the  minister." 

The  greater  mass  of  auditors,  however,  stood  cluster- 
ing round  the  sitters,  or  perched  on  the  more  elevated 
grave-stones,  or  in  trees,  or  on  the  Avails,  taking  advan- 
tage of  every  little  height,  that  might  enable  them  to 
overlook  their  neighbours  or  hear  the  voice  of  the 
preacher,  an  object^of  no  easy  attainment,  although  the 
rev^erend  gentleman  certainly  did  not  fail  in  raising  it  to 
its  utmost  pitch. 

But  to  listen  to  the  preacher  did  not,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, as  Glenvallich  had  more  than  hinted,  appear  to 
be  the  object  of  all  in  that  crowd.  Numbers  stood  alto- 
gether aloof  in  little  groupes,  conversing  with  a  reckless 
animation  which  scarcely  accorded  w^fth  the  occasion 
and  its  solemn  duties.  The  lover  might  be  eas^ily  noted, 
as  he  seized  the  long-expected  opportunity  of  pressing 
his  rustic  gallantries  upon  the  lass  of  his  atiections;  and 
a  curious  observer  might  guess  that  the  meeting  was 
neither  unexpected  nor  unwelcome,  as  she  stood  in  tar- 
tan screen  and  snooded  hair,  listening  with  half  averted 
face  to  the  pleasant  and  flattering  tale. 

The  ill-suppressed  giggle,  bursting  often  into  an  un- 
disguised laugh,^  made  the  heart  glad  in  spite  of  deco- 
rum, as  the  eye  fell  upon  a  groupe  of  four  or  five  young 
lasses,  who,  acquaintances  no  doubt  from  various  parts 
of  the  country,  now  met  after  a  long  absence,  and,  re- 
gardless of  time  and  place,  greeted  each  other  with 
hearty  affection,  told  their  littfe  tales  and  adventures, 
and  laughed  in  the  gayety  of  their  hearts,  at  jokes  which 
might  have  little  moved  the  risibility  of  others.  But  not 
unnoticed  did  they  thus  amuse  themselves;  for  near 
them  might  be  seen  standing  a  knot  of  ''braw  lads,"  who 
eyed  the  merry  sisterhood  with  looks  of  interest  and 
longing.    Perhaps  among  them  stood  some  unacknow- 


136  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

ledged  sweetheart — perhaps  some  rejected  suitor: — and 
the  possibility  seemed  confirmed  by  the  furtive  glances 
which  soon  beg-an  to  pass  ''depart  et  d' autre.'''' 

The  earnest  confabalation  of  a  graver  party  at  no 
^reat  distance,  argued  attention  to  more  important  sub- 
jects; yet  it  was  not  the  serious  solemnity  which  attends 
religious  converse:  it  was  rather  the  keenness  that 
characterises  more  secular  pursuits;  and,  as  they  stood, 
some  holding  their  beasts  by  the  bridles,  as  just  dis- 
mounted, others  with  stati*  m  hand  as  just  arrived,  it 
was  plfiin  that  their  discourse  did  not  altogether  refer  to 
the  duties  of  the  day.  Groupes  of  children  were  playing 
tumultuously  at  hide  and  seek  among  the  grave-stones, 
and  round  the  various  vehicles  of  those  who  were  better 
engaged,  in  spite  of  the  threatsor  remonstrances  of  their 
elders,  aided  sometimes  by  a  hearty  cuff  or  skelp,  that 
for  a  time  would  spoil  their  mirth:  they  squatted  them- 
selves among  the  straw  of  the  coups  and  carts,  sprung 
over  them,  balanced  themselves  on  the  backs  and  up- 
turned shafts,  and  played  all  manner  of  antics  in  the 
very  spot  where  fathers,  mothers,  sisters,  brothers,  and 
kindred  lay  mouldering  under  their  feet — where,  at  no 
distant  period,  perhaps,  many  of  themselves  would  be 
laid  at  rest! — 

"Alas!  unmindful  of  their  doom, 
The  little  victims  play!" 

"Horses,  ponies,  and  garrons  were  disposed  of  also  in 
the  churchyard,  or  the  little  space  around  its  gates. 
Some  left  carelessly  in  the  charge  of  younglings  of  either 
sex,  with  bridle  on'neck,  and  loosed  girths,  had  already 
trampled  girth  and  gear  under  foot,  and  were  well  on 
their  way  homewards,  while  the  thoughtless  guardian 
was  at  furious  play  with  his  fellows;  others,  more  pru- 
dently hapshackled,  cropped  a  mouthful  of  grass  among 
the  graves;  while  others  again,  less  fortunate,  were  con- 
stramed  to  bear  the  weight  of  some  wicked  little  urchin, 
who,  like  a  monkey  on  a  bear,  took  the  opportunity  of 
the  owner's  absence  to  get  astride  his  beast,  and  who 
kicked  and  battered  at  the  sluggish  animal,  if  vainly  he 
sought  to  crop  a  morsel  of  the  sweet  green  turf  beneath 
its  feet. 

Every  grave-stone  had  its  occupant,  every  green  hil- 
lock its  living  burthen;  tor  many  a  one  was  there,  who, 
without  an^  lighter  or  less  worthy  motive  than  meeting 
with  their  friends,  either  male  or  female,  sat  down  with 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  137 

them  to  -welcome  and  discass  their  mutual  news  before 
ens^gins  in  more  serious  duties. 

The  Highlanders  can  scarcely  be  termed  a  comely 
race,  even  by  theif  most  zealous  admirers,  and  their 
women  of  the  lower  orders  are  by  no  means  generally 
well-favoured.  Hard  work  and  exposure,  witK  indiffer- 
ent food  and  peat-smoke,  too  often  evince  their  effects 
in  a  hardness  of  feature  and  shrivelling  of  the  skin,  which 
destroys  all  pretensions  to  beauty  at  a  very  early  period. 
Still  there  are  exceptions,  and  such  meetings  as  we  are 
describing  are  the  occasions  when  such  are  to  be  seen. 
The  Highland  costume  is  not  perhaps  the  most  favour- 
able of  all  others  to  display  the  female  figure  to  advan- 
tage; but  when,  as  in  the  present  case,  every  one  made 
an  exertion  to  huskherseK  in  her  "best  and  brawest," 
the  general  effect  produced  was  exceedingly  agreeable.^ 

The  head-dress  was,  at  the  time  in  question,  the  chief 
object  of  attention  among  Highland  women;  we  say  at 
that  time,  because  since  then,  Vithin  a  very  few  years, 
the  increase  of  resort  to  the  remotest  parts  of  the  coun- 
try, and  the  excessive  cheapness  of  manufactures,  both 
cotton  and  silk,  has  wrought  a  marvellous  change  in  the 
dress  of  both  men  and  women.  At  the  period  in  ques- 
tion, then,  married  women,  as  of  old,  were  alone  privi- 
leged to  wear  the  head  covered:  and  the  curtch,  and 
viictch,  and  toy,  were  matters  of  no  slight  consequence 
in  the  economy  of  their  toilet.  As  some  of  our  readers 
may  not  be  aware  of  the  nature  of  the  pieces  of  dress  in- 
tended to  be  designated  by  these  terms,  we  shall  inform 
them  that  the  curtch  was"  a  triangular  piece  of  lawn  or 
linen,  wrapped  close  round  the  head,  over  which  was 
usually  bound  a  riband  of  some  gay  colour.  Above  this 
was  placed  the  mutch,  a  superstructure  of  thin  clear 
muslin,  in  the  shape  of  a  mob-cap,  high  in  the  crown,  and 
platted  neatly  round  the  face,  and  through  which  the 
riband  aforesaid  shone  with  softened  brilliancy.  The 
toy  differs  somewhat  from  the  mutch  in  shape,  but  par- 
ticularly in  having  two  long  lappets  hanging  down  be- 
hind, one  on  each  shoulder. 

Tartan  plaids  of  various  patterns,  cloaks  of  scarlet, 
blue  or  gray,  the  former  usually  fastened  on  the  breast 
by  a  huge  silver  brooch— some  heirloom  of  the  family, — 
and  both  falling  in  picturesque  and  graceful  drapery  over 
the  shoulders  and  person,  till  they  Nearly  concealed  the 
full  short  red  or  blue  petticoat,  completed  for  the  most 
part  the  exterior  costume  of  the  Highland  matron. 

The  maiden  on  the  other  hand  wore,  and  still  for  the 

M2 


138  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

most  part  wears,  the  head  uncovered.  The  only  orna- 
ment, the  snood,  which  has  more  than  once  been  alluded 
to,  is  a  simple  riband  bound  round  the  head,  and  confin- 
ino"  the  hair,  which,  shaded  on  the  forehead,  falls  in  thick 
shining"  clusters  on  the  shoulders,  or  is  fastened  up  in  a 
knot  behind,  leavin;?  a  ringlet  or  two  to  wander  about 
the  face  or  neck.  Gay-coloured  handkerchiefs,  and  s^owns 
of  gaudy  chintzes  did  not  unfrequently  contribute  to  the 
variety  of  their  garb,  mingling  among  the  russet  brown 
and  coarser  fabric?,  which  for  the  most  part  forms  even 
the  holiday  apparel  of  the  mountain  maidens.  On  the 
whole  the  scene  was  animated  and  pleasing.  If  the  more 
refined  and  fastidious  eye  of  the  professed  beauty-hunter 
might  not  in  the  churchyard  of  Kilrannock,  detect  much 
of  that  softness  of  complexion  and  regularity  of  feature 
which  distinguishes  the  maidens  of  England,  there  was 
still  abundance  of  health  and  good-humour  to  be  seen  in 
the  florid  cheeks,  the  smiling  lips,  and  downcast  eyes  of 
the  Highland  lasses  around.  Even  the  children,  chubby 
shy-looking  creatures,  were  perked  out  in  their  new  kilts 
and  jackets,  although  their  legs  and  feet  were  uncon- 
scious of  shoe  or  stocking,  and  their  bare  heads  had  been 
bleached  to  a  din^y  or  a  flaxen  hue,  by  exposure  to  the 
sun  and  to  the  wmds  of  heaven. 

While  Tresham  paused  to  contemplate  this  picture, 
the  psalm  had  ceased,  and  the  minister  rising  in  the  pul- 
pit to  commence  his  prayer,  the  whole  seated  multitude 
arose  as  one  man;  \yhen,  to  the  mighty  swell  which  had 
so  lately  filled  the  air,  succeeded  a  silence  so  profound, 
that  a  whisper  might  be  heard, — and  one  slow  solemn 
voice  alone  ascended  on  high,  to  sohcit  from  their  hea- 
venly Father  those  blessings  which  are  the  life  and  sup- 
port of  all  his  creatures — those  mercies,  without  which 
their  existence  could  not  for  a  moment  endure. 

It  was  a  striking,  impressive  spectacle:  nor  was  it  a 
moment  to  think  of  those  abuses,  or  to  Iook  for  those  im- 
proprieties which  his  friend  Glenvallich  had  reprobated. 
In  a  happy  frame  of  mind  he  had  followed  his  party  into 
the  church,  where  having  with  great  difficulty  made 
their  way  to  the  family  seat,  they  listened  to  an  excellent 
sermon  by  Mr.  Ross,  the  gentleman  with  whom  he  had 
already  become  acquainted,  and  whom  he  was  fully  pre- 
pared to  respect  and  esteem. 

We  shall  not  abuse  our  power  over  the  reader,  so  far 
as  to  inflict  on  him  a  recapitulation  of  the  heads  of  this 
discourse,  or  to  dilate  upon  the  excellent  doctrines  it 
inculcated.    We  shall  only  say,  that  those  who  did  not 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  139 

profit  by  it,  oug'ht  assuredly  to  have  done  so,  and  that 
our  friend  Tresham  returned  home  very  powerfully  im- 
pressed by  all  he  had  seen  and  heard  that  day. 

On  the  following  raorninor,  the  laird  of  Airdruthmore, 
who  had  till  then  continued  at  Inverallich,  took  leave  of 
his  hospitable  entertainer,  and  seized  an  opportunity  of 
renewing  to  Tresham  the  invitation  which  he  had  more 
than  once  given,  urging  him  to  let  no  long  time  elapse 
before  he  should  put  it  in  his  power  to  present  him  to  his 
daughter  at  Airdruthmore. 

"f  think  you  will  like  Belle,  Mr.  Tresham,  and  that 
Belle  will  like  you,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  "for  I  see 
plainly  that  many  of  your  tastes  are  alike;  so  come  along 
and  let  us  see  you,  and  Belle  shall  show  you  her  walks, 
and  her  glens,  and  her  cottages,  and  fancies;  and  Bally- 
tuUy  here  shall  show  you  the  game.  I'm  too  old  for  such 
pranks  myself." 

"Ballytully  to  this  appeal  of  the  honest  old  laird,  made 
answer  only  by  a  stid  bow,  which  could  not  hide  the 
scowl  that  brooded  over  his  features  as  he  listened  to 
the  cordial  invitation  bestowed  upon  Tresham  by  his 
friend.  It  passed  unobserved,  however,  by  Tresham 
himsell)  for  occupied  with  the  good  old  gentleman,  whose 
frank  kmdness  had  already  almost  won  his  heart,  he  was 

f)rotrering  a  willing  acceptance  of  the  hospitable  chal- 
enge  he  had  received — a  pledge  which  it  was  his  full  in- 
tention to  redeem  so  soon  as  circumstances  should  place 
it  in  his  power  to  do  so. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


PTARMIGHAN  SHOOTING — A  BAD  FALL  AND  A  GOOD  LAND-FALL. 

The  Caipercaillie  and  Tarmaghan 

Crow'd  crouse  on  hill  and  muir, 
But  mony  a  gory  wing'or  een, 

Shaw'd  Kenneth's  flane  was  sure. 

Old  Ballad, 

Pleasantly  did  the  first  days  of  August  flit  away  at 
the  castle  of  Inverallich,  in  occupations  suited  to  the  sea- 
son and  the  weather.    But  rides  and  drives,  and  long 


140  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

charming  strolls  in  the  noble  woods,  and  through  the 
never-ending  walks  on  banks  of  lake  and  river,  at 
length  failed  to  please.  Repeated  and  pertinacious 
though  vain  attempts  upon  the  liberty  of  the  stately  sal- 
mon and  active  grilses  which  tantalized  the  anglers  by 
leaping  at  every  fly  upon  the  waters  but  theirs,  grew 
stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable — for  these  and  all  other  occu- 
pations were  at  length  lost  and  absorbed  in  the  bustle 
and  note  of  preparation  which  now  commenced,  for  that 
great  important  day  which  is  '"big  with  the  fate"  of 
thousands  of  the  feathered  tenants  of  the  muirs.  The 
destined  party  had  arrived  at  Inverallich,  together  with 
a  little  arsenal  of  guns  of  every  maker,  from  Knock  and 
Mortimer,  to  Smith  and  Manton;*  and  all  the  new  in- 
ventions of  powder-horns  and  shot-belts,  which  the  sea- 
son had  given  birth  to.  Dogs  of  every  description,  rough 
and  smooth,  pointers  and  setters,  and  retrievers,  of  the 
most  celebrated  breeds  of  England,  Scotland,  and  Ire- 
land, were  produced  and  paraded,  and  duly  exercised,  in 
order  to  ascertain  their  respective  qualities  and  merits. 
The  conversation  now  became  strictly  technical  and  pro- 
fessional. The  high  travel  of  one  favourite  dog,  the  su- 
j^erb  nose  of  another,  the  close  questing  of  a  third,  the 
fine  stvie  in  which  a  fourth  quartered  his  ground,  were 
all  set  forth  in  glowing  language,  by  the  respective  pro- 
prietors of  the  animals,  backed  with  due  energy  by  the 
obsequious  keepers. 

"Hang  me,  but  Fll  back  old  Carlo,  here,  against  the 
whole  kennel  of  them,  for  findine-  game,"  said  one,  'Til 
trouble  any  gentleman  to  find  a  biird  upon  the  ground  he 
has  gone  over." 

''Aye,  aye,  that  may  be,"  said  another,  "but  give  me 
Don,  there,  for  a  long  day's  work;  Don  will  work  you 
fourteen  hours  on  end,  and  go  out  as  far  and  hunt  as 
hi^h  the  last  hour  as  the  first;  aye,  and  just  wash  his  feet 
with  a  little  salt  and  water,  and  soss  him  well,  and  he'll 
be  as  ready  for  the  hill  next  morning,  as  if  he  had  not 
gone  a  mile;  he'll  work  you  four  days  a-week,  hard  fag- 
ging, will  Don — what  say  you,  Williams?  you  have  seen 
the  dog  work  in  Yorkshire." 

"Aye,  aye,  your  honour,  Don  will  do  his  work,  never 
fear  him^  but  to  my  mind,  here's  Fan  will  lake  the  shine 
out  on  him,  if  so  be  she  lives.    I  never  seed  a  bitch  hunt 

*  We  need  not  remark  that  this  was  before  the  days  of  Purdie, 
and  even  before  the  admirable  invention  of"  copper  caps  had  come 
into  approved  use. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  141 

like  Fan,  in  my  born  days — and  see  how  she  carries  her 
nose;  never  pokes  it  into  the  earth  like  a  lurcher,  but 
breast-high  she  goes,  Hke  a  thorough-bred  as  she  is.  I'll 
take  ray  oath  she  nosed  an  old  hen  and  her  brood  half-a- 
mile  on  t'other  day,  and  she  trotted  up  to  them  in  such 
style  as  I  never  seed.  I  was  afeard  she  was  agoing  to 
be  rash,  but  I  let  her  alone,  and  she  carried  me  right  up 
within  eighty  or  hundred  yards  of  her  game,  and  then 
drew  on  as  hootiful!  O  she's  a  prime  bitch;  if  she  were 
mine,  I  wou'dn't  take  fifty  guineas  in  hand  for  her,"  &c. 
&c.  &c. 

Then  there  were  the  arrangements — the  quarter  mas- 
ter's and  commissariat  departments  to  be  seen  after— the 
sending  offof  kitchen  utensils  and  bedding,  and^ofmen  to 
prepare  heather,  luxurious  heather,  wilh  its  fragrance 
and  elasticity,  to  be  put  under  the  mattrasses— superior 
to  all  the  straw  palliasses  in  the  world;  and  to  secure 
abundance  of  that  most  indispensable  article,  fuel,  for 
cooking  and  for  fire.  Then  the  "provant"  of  all  sorts — 
for  the  hill  is,  after  all,  the  place  to  enjoy  good  hving  in; 
— one  walks  for  it, — and  the  air  is  so  pure  and  elastic; 
and  then,  in  a  hard  day's  fa^,  there  is  so  much  expense 
of  "radical  moisture,"  and  of  solid  substance,  which  it  is 
so  grateful  to  supply,  sitting  at  one's  ease  around  a  well 
plenished  table,  and  by  a  clear  rousing  peat-fire.  Then 
there  were  the  instruments  of  slaughter  to  be  despatched 
in  safety,  and  ammunition — enough  to  store  a  little  gar- 
rison for  a  season — to  be  packed  and  sent  off.  In  short, 
there  vc^re  the  thousand  important  concerns  and  pleas- 
ing cares  which  occupy  young  sportsmen  on  the  eve  of  a 
shooting  campaign:  preparatives,  alas!  which  like  those 
for  many  a  lotlier  project,  prove  far,  far  more  delightful 
than  the  reality,  even  when  that  reality  involves  success. 
We  once  were  young  ourselves;  even  yet,  thank  Hea- 
ven, we  are  not  "dead  old;"  and  well  do  we  remember — 
nay  we  yet  can  feel  something  of  the  stirring  excitement, 
the  supreme  bliss  of  such  anticipations;  and  surely  ne- 
ver did  the  event  of  the  most  successful  day  equal  the 
sanguine  hopes,  the  buoyant  and  delicious  eagerness, 
with  which  we  issue  in  the  dewy  morning  from  the  bothy, 
breast  the  hill  on  whose  summit  we  expect  the  "first 
point,"  walk  up  with  breathless  earnestness  to  the  fixed 
and  rigid  dogs,  and  gayly,  reraorelessly,  bag  the  first  flut- 
tering victim  of  the  season. 

Among  the  numerous  advantages  and  privileges  of  a 
Highland  chieftain,  there  is  none  perhaps  more  prized 
now-a-days,  nor  more  jealously  guarded,  than  his  power 


14-2  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

of  shooting  g-ame  over  an  extensive  range  of  country; 
and  assuredly  there  is  none  which,  judiciously  employed, 
may  contribute  in  a  greater  degree  to  render  him  popu- 
lar and  beloved  in  his  own  domains.  '"The  man,"  says 
Shakspeare,  "who  has  not  music  in  his  soul,  is  fit  for 
treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils."  It  is  a  strong  denun- 
ciation certainly,  but  we  confess  that  we  should  be  very  apt 
at  least  to  insult  with  our  pity,  if  not  to  anathematize,  that 
man  who  has  not.  in  some  shape  or  other,  felt  sympathy 
for  the  delights  of  field  sports.  If  an  English  nobleman  or 
squire  experiences  a  high  satisfaction  in  keeping  a  pack 
of  hounds  for  the  amusement  of  a  county,  what  degree 
of  pride  and  exultation  may  that  Highland  chief  be  per- 
mitted to  feel,  who  can  send  out  his  clansmen  to  drive 
his  country,  carry  his  friends  into  a  noble  glen,  and  gra- 
tify their  eyes  by  the  sight  of  two  or  three  thousand  head 
of  magnificent  red  deer,  collected  to  afford  them  sport. 
Such  a  spectacle  reminds  one  of  tales  of  the  times  of  old 
— ofthe  gra.ndchasses  of  Germany  and  Hungary — of  the 
warlike  hunting  campaigns  of  Ghenghiz  or  of  Timour 
— it  is  the  very  chivalry  of  sport. 

Few,  no  doubt,  have  it  in  their  power  to  do  things  on 
so  grand  a  scaler  but  how  many  are  there  who  possess 
the  means  of  affording  very  extensive  enjoyment  to 
themselves  and  to  others — who  are  the  lords  of  almost 
interminable  tracts,  abounding  with  various  sorts  of 
game — and  how  can  this  be  better  employed  than  in 
gratifying  those  neighbours  and  friends  who  may  be  un- 
provided with  such  means  of  healthful  amusement; 
many  of  whom,  probably,  even  in  these  days,  look  up 
to  him  as  their  feudal  superior,  and  whose  ancestors  in 
former  times  were  wont  to  aid  him  with  their  hearts  and 
hands  in  the  day  of  need. 

There  was  a  time,  nor  is  it  yet  very  distant,  when 
game,  no  doubt,  was  more  abundant  than  at  present — 
sportsmen  less  numerous  and  less  skilful — ere  modern 
improvements  had  increased  the  scale  of  slaughter  and 
appetite  for  carnage— before  bets  and  battues  were 
known  in  the  Highlands — when  the  pleasure  of  shoot- 
ing consisted  less  in  the  quantity  of  game  destroyed  than 
in  the  amount  of  social  enjoyment  it  produced, — when 
Manton  and  Purdie  were  names  unknown,  and  ere  the 
merits  of  copper  caps  or  tubes,  oi' concave  wadding'  or 
cartridges,  were  discussed  or  even  heard  of.  In  those 
rude  and  patriarchal,  but  pleasant  old  times,  restraints 
upon  sporting  were  unknown  in  the  Highlands.  A  gen- 
tleman might  then  have  wandered  "from  Dan  to  Beer- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  U3 

shebah"— from  Aberdeen  to  Lochaber — from  the  mull  of 
Cantyre  to  John  o'  Groat's  house— from  the  Ord  of 
Caithness  to  the  Croe  of  Kintail,  gun  in  hand,  and  dog 
at  heel,  without  annoyance  given  or  question  asked.  Or 
if  the  laird,  on  whose  lands  he  happened  to  be  passing-, 
did  chance  to  meet  him,  it  was  but  to  salute  him  wifh 
a  "What  sport?"  or  a  "Good  speed!"  and  probably  an  in- 
vitation to  partake  of  the  day's  fare  and  a  night's' rest  at 
his  house. 

But  these  days  are  past — "temporamutanturP^  ^.vA 
we  are  neither  so  old  nor  so  prejudiced  as  to  fail  of  per- 
ceiving that  they  never  can  return.  The  state  ofsociety 
has  changed  as  completely  as  the  times,  and  we  daily  see 
things  occur  of  which  in  our  youth  we  dreamt  not.  The 
pleasures  of  sport  in  the  Highlands  have  become  subjects 
of  purchase  like  any  other  luxury,  and  the  privilege 
which  was  once  freely  bestowed  and  scarcely  deemed  a 
favour,  is  now  too  valuable  to  be  enjoyed  by  any  but  the 
rich.  Nay,  even  were  this  not  so,  it  is  obvious  that  such 
a  privilege  would,  in  the  present  times,  be  liable  to  so 
much  abuse,  that  to  grant  it  almost  indiscriminately,  as 
formerly,  would  be  absurd  and  impracticable. 

Still  there  are  many  who  not  only  possess  the  power, 
but  the  will  to  dispense  satisfaction  around  them:  and  of 
this  number  was  Glenvallich.  His  shooting  quarters 
were  in  a  different  part  of  his  extensive  property  from 
that  where  the  deer  forest  lay.  The  country  was  equally 
wild,  but  less  remote  and  inaccessible.  It  was  amply 
stocked  with  game,  and  consisted  of  a  range  of  hill  capa- 
ble of  affording  separate  and  extensive  beats  to  a  large 
party:  and  the  liberal  hospitality  of  the  laird  disposed 
him  to  carry  with  him  in  the  season  as  many  as  the  bothy 
would  accommodate,  independently  of  all  other  permis- 
sions which  were  granted  to  his  neighbours  and  friends 
in  other  quarters. 

Tlie  party  on  this  occasion  consisted  of  four  gentlemen 
beside  Tresham  and  himself;  and  if  good  sport,  good  liv- 
ing; and  pleasant  society,  could  make  man  happy,  the 
inmates  of  the  bothy  of  Loupriach  had  ample  means  of 
being  so.  To  detail  the  progress  and  amount  of  slaugh- 
ter; the  feats  of  dogs  and  men;  the/or  mation  and  decision 
of  bets;  and  the  general  exercise  of  ingenuity  in  gastro- 
nomic research,  which  marked  the  swift  lapse  of  time 
upon  this  expedition,  is  not  only  foreign  to  our  purpose, 
but  might  possibly  fatigue  the  patience  of  our  fair  rea- 
ders, who  no  doubt  are  wearying  to  come  at  the  interest- 
ing matter— the  kernel  of  this  history— r/cZe/iCzV,  the 


144  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

love,  if  any  such  there  be.  Fear  not,  fair  dames,  it  will 
come,  and  that  shortly:  but  whether  it  may  prove  a  love 
to  your  tastes,  remains  to  be  seen.  In  the  meantime, 
allojis! 

"I  should  like  to  shoot  a  ptarmighan,  too,"  said  Cap- 
tain Bently,  as  the  party  lounged  one  evening  over  their 
whiskey  toddy — a  tipple  which  had  driven  claret  and  ma- 
deira from  the  field,  that  is,  from  the  stout  deal  table  on 
which  the  evening's  repast  was  duly  set  forth  at  seven, 
p.  M. ;  an  hour  chosen  that  all  might  have  time  to  return 
home  from  their  respective  beats,  and  make  themselves 
comfortable  for  the  night,  before  attempting  to  refresh 
the  inward  man — "I  should  like  to  shoot  a  ptarmighan; 
but  then  it's  such  adeucedlong  way  to  that  Ben-i-skiah, 
— or  how  do  you  call  it? — that  the  whole  day  is  lost  for 
the  chance  of  a  shot— a  mere  uncertainty  after  all  your 
fag." 

'"How  far  may  it  be  to  that  same  Ben— which  Bently 
epoke  of,  Glenv^allichl"  inquired  Tresham,  carelessly. 

"Why,  as  to  its  distance  in  measured  miles,"  replied 
the  lair^,  "it  might  be  hard  to  say;  but,  as  the  crow  flies, 
I  don't  think  you  can  reckon  it  less  than  fifteen  miles-^ 
twenty,  I  dare  say,  by  the  shortest  way  yoa  can  make  it." 

"And  what  are  our  chances  of  game,  if  I  were  to  go 
there,  think  you?  I  should  like,  with  your  permission, 
to  send  a  few  brace  of  these  beautiful  birds  to  Colonel 
Lethbridge.  if  they  were  to  be  had.'' 

"O,  if  the  weather  holds  favourable,  there's  little  doubt 
of  your  finding  ptarmighan  on  Ben-i-skiah.  If  it's  a  fine 
calm  day,  you  may  pass  them  within  five  yards  and  not 
observe  them — they  lie  then  like  stones.  If  windy,  they 
will  probably  be  shy,  and  baffle  you;  if  misty,  there's  no 
saying  how  they  may  be.  I  have  seen  them  in  mist  as 
tame  as  barn  door  fowls,  and  sometimes  as  wild  as 
hawks;  but  beware  of  Ben-i-skiah  in  a  mist — its  very 
name  is  ominous.  If  a  cloud  once  gathers  on  its  head — 
if  once  it  puts  on  its  nightcap,  there's  an  end  of  the  busi- 
ness for  the  day:  you  have  only  to  cut  and  run  down  hill 
as  fast  as  you  can,  or  you  may  have  to  pass  the  night 
among  the  gray  stones;  for  to  move  on  Ben-i-skiah  when 
it  is  dark  with  mist,  would  be  as  dangerous  as 

'To  cross  a  torrent  roaring  wide, 
Upon  the  uncertain  footing  of  a  spear.' 

A  single  step  might  make  you  eagle's  meat  on  one  of  the 
precipices." 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  145 

"Well,  I  have  a  great  mind  to  the  adventure.  If  the 
morning  turns  out  fair  and  promivsing,  I  do  think  Til  at- 
tempt it.  I'm  in  capital  wind,  a  walk  will  do  me  good; 
and  variety  won't  be  amiss.  So  corragio!  and  hey  ibr 
Ben-i-skiah!" 

"Very  well;  then,  Bently,  will  you  go  with  Tresham?" 

"Much  obliged;  no,  I  shall  be  contented  with  some  less 
glorious  enterprise." 

"O,  then  yon  can  take  the  Corry  Dourach  beat  with 
Atkins;  and,  Tresham,  take  your  old  triend  Kenny  with 
vou — he  knows  every  toot  of  the  hill,  and  it  must  be  a 
black  mist  out  of  which  he'll  not  take  you." 

Arrangements  to  this  effect  were  accordingly  made; 
and  at  four  the  next  morning,  Tresham  having  started, 
with  Kenny  and  a  giUie,  held  a  south-western  course  to- 
wards Ben-i-skiah. 

Although  Tresham's  express  object  was  to  look  for 
those  beautiful  birds,  which  are  only  to  be  found  on  the 
bare  stony  summits  of  the  highest  mountains  in  the 
Highlands;  and  though  with  this  in  view  he  should  have 
proceeded  direct  to  the  point  of  his  destination,  he  could 
not  withstand  the  temptation  of  the  noble  packs  of  grouse 
which  started  at  his  foot,  nor  avoid  taking  a  shot  at 
them;  and  in  this  manner  no  small  time  was  frittered 
away  in  the  very  best  part  of  the  day. 

Many  a  mile  of  heavy  gray  moss  and  deep  peat  bog — 
many  a  weary  track  of  the  tiresome,  baffling  Keaun- 
kinoich*  spread  their  interminable  length  to  weary  and 
blow  the  sportsmen,  but  they  still  persevered;  and  by  the 
hour  of  noon  they  had  reached  the  elevated  shoulder  of 
a  mighty  mountain,  that  towered  among  his  fellows,  and 
found  themselves  at  the  foot  of  a  huge  dark  gray  mass 
of  rocks  and  hchcns  which  rose  a  full  thousand  feet  above 
them. 

"Here  we  are  at  last,  sir,"  said  Kenny;  we're  on  Ben- 
i-skiah,  and  there's  his  top,  but  I  dinna  like  yon;"  and 
looking  in  the  direction  of  his  finger  as  he  pointed  up- 
wards, Tresham  observed  a  thin  gray  vapour  curling 
around  the  summit,  so  faint  as  scarcely  to  be  discernible 
from  the  deep  blue  of  the  sky,  and  barely  softening  with- 
out obscurin^^  the  outline  of  the  hill  on  which  it  rested. 

"That!"said  Tresham,  contemptuously — "pshah,  man 
—that's  nothing — you  don't  call  that  a  mist^  surely? 

*  Literally,  "heads  without  necks," — the  tufts  of  grass  or  heather; 
found  in  bogs,  almost  undermined  by  the  water,  and  which  shake 
and  tremble  under  the  foot  of  the  traveller. 

VOL.  I.  N 


146  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

Why,  your  Highland  hills  are  never  without  some  little 
adumbration  ofthat  sort,  just  to  cool  us  sportsmen  when 
we're  breasting  them  up." 

'Aye,  weel,  sir,  may  be,"  replied  Kenny,  in  some 
doubt  as  to  his  meaning;  "but  yon's  another  sign  that 
hunter  or  shepherd  never  scorns;"  and  he  pointed  to  a 
httle  low-spread  bank  of  cloud  which  lay  upon  the  top  of 
another  very  distant  hill,  and  which,  though  there  was 
i^carce  a  speck  of  vapour  in  the  sky,  appeared  to  gather 
bulk  rapidly  from  the  surrounding  atmosphere  itself. 
Tresham  gave  it  a  hasty  glance.  '"Well,  well,"  said  he, 
"we'll  take  a  scurry  to  the  top,  now  Ave  are  here;  I  shall 
have  bagged  my  six  or  eight  brace  before  that  fellow  can 
come  to  any  thing  serious,  ehl" 

"'Od,  sir,  I'm  the  last  that  wud  spoil  sport,  sure 
enough,"  replied  Kenny;  "an'  no  one  can  tell  what  may 
happen — but  we  most  mak'  the  better  haste  any  way.  I 
dinna  Uke  yon  gray  cluds — see  how  they're  rising,  fast, 
fast  in  the  east,  thonder." 

Tresham  saw  it  too,  and  marked  wnth  astonishment 
the  rapid  accumulation  of  a  filmy  fleece  over  a  portion  of 
the  eastern  skv,  which  but  a  few  minutes  before  had  ex- 
hibited a  spotless  expanse  of  blue;  but  resolved  not  to 
throw  away  the  chance  which  he  had  worked  so  hard  to 
obtain,  he  set  his  breast  to  the  mountain  and  began  vi- 
gorously to  ascend.  It  joroved  a  severer  task  than  he 
anticipated:  shoulder  after  shoulder,  and  ridge  after 
ridge,  appeared,  and  was  surmounted,  till  at  last  the  gray 
moss  and  thin  yellow  grass,  mingled  with  black  peat 
cracks,  disappeared,  and  gave  way  to  high  scoors  and 
precipices  of  gray  stone. 

It  was  on  reaching  a  ledge  of  this  rock,  over  which  the 
vapour  was  fast  stealingrthat  Kenny  sprung  forward 
and  touched  the  arm  of  Tresham,  who  was  eagerly 
pressing  upwards.  "See — lookl"  said  he— "there  they 
are." 

"What  are  there?"  demanded  Tresham,  following  in 
vain  with  his  eye  the  direction  of  the  keeper's  finger, 
which  was  stretched  towards  a  point  already  half  hid  in 
the  mist.  "O!  dinna  ye  see  them?"  repeated  the  man 
with  earnestness.  But  Tresham  could  discover  nothing, 
except  a  great  flat  blue  stone  which  rose  from  among  a 
whole  cairn  of  lesser  fragments. 

"What  is  it,  man?    I  see  nothing." 

"O,  sir!  the  ptarmighan!" 

At  that  moment  a  sort  of  rustling  flutter  upon  the  face 
of  the  blue  stone  caught  the  eye  oT  Tresham— quick  as 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  147 

ihoufffit  was  his  Maulon  cocked,  and  at  his  shoulder. 
The  usual  delicacy  of  sportsmen  is  never  observed  with 
ptarmighan,  a  rare  and  capricious  bird,  which,  if  the 
first  chance  be  not  taken,  may  escape  altogether  after 
the  most  fatiguing  chase.  So  slap  went  the  first  barrel 
at  the  unsuspecting  victims  as  they  sat  all  nestling  toge- 
ther— ban^  went  the  second  at  the  few  that  rose.  Seven 
birds  lay  fluttering  in  their  blood  upon  the  rock,  while 
three  or  four  more  made  their  retreat,  probably  maimed 
and  wounded,  and  were  lost  in  the  mist. 

"Pick  up  these  chaps,  Kenny,  while  I  load,-'  said  Tre- 
sham:  "'I  must  have  the  rest— they'll  not  go  far." 

"That's  more  than  1  can  tell,  sir,"'  responded  Kenneth; 
"ptarmighans  will  sometimes  fly  far  enough  in  mist — 
but  may  be  they're  no  past  The  next  know."^ 

On  they  pressed  in  the  direction  which  the  birds  had 
taken;  but  after  a  \'ew  minutes'  walk,  their  progress  was 
arrested  by  a  dark  bluff  rock  which  rose  plump  in  their 
front,  scarcely  visible  for  the  thick  gray  mist  which  had 
by  that  time  completely  enveloped  them. 

"Diaoul!"  exclaimed  Kenneth;  ''a  pretty  way  we're  in 
now — I  thocht  as  much  when  I  seed  yon  bonnet  on  the 
top  o'  Benhowmenah." 

"Umph!  pleasant  business,  faith.  Well,  and  what  are 
we  to  do,  then?" 

"Ou,  ye'll  just  follow  me,  sir,  and  Til  go  cannie  on — 
the  mist's  no  so  thick  yet  but  we  may  fincTthe  way  doon. 
If  we  were  once  out  o'  the  hill  we  micht  do  weel  eneugh, 
for  may  be  the  mist's  no  on  the  moss  yet — but  it's  a  far 
way  to  Loupriach,  sure  eneugh." 

Without  more  ado,  for  there  was  no  time  for  hesita- 
tion, on  went  Kenneth,  picking  his  way  with  extreme 
caution  along  the  led«-es  of  the  very  rocks  and  over  the 
very  stones  they  had  just  ascended,  but  which  it  was  no 
longer  possible  to  recognise  with  certainty.  As  they 
advanced,  the  mist  thickened,  so  that  they  could  not  see 
even  two  yards  before  them,  and  Kenneth  had  to  feel  his 
way  with  his  staff  as  they  held  downwards  along  the 
weather-worn  channels,  to  ascertain  a  resting-place  for 
the  next  foot  before  he  lifted  it  from  the  ground  on  which 
it  stood,  lest  he  might  be  hovering  on  the  verge  of  some 
dangerous  precipice. 

"This  is  na'  bairn's  play,  Mr.  Traisham,"  said  he  at 
length,  after  they  had  proceeded  thus  darkling  and  anxi- 
ously for  nearly  half  an  hour.  ''Who  can  tell  whether 
we  have  keepit  the  richt  way  or  no? — 'Od,  sir,  Ben-i- 
skiah's  no  just  the  best  place  for  a  foul  mist  or  a  dark 


148  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

nicht — there's  a  black  loch  on  one  side  o'  her,  so  deep 
that  they  say  it  canna  be  sounded,  and  the  hill  rises  above 
it  like  a  wall  five  hundred  feet  high. — Lord  keep  us  from 
that  wild  bit!" 

"Amen,  I  say  to  that,  Kenny;  but  how  then  would  you 
advise  us  to  do?" 

"We'll,  sir,  I'm  sure  we'll  better  abide  awee  where 
we  are,  till  Ave  see  if  the  mist  '11  lift  a  bit,  than  clod  our- 
selves, may  be,  over  a  brae  face,  and  break  oor  necks." 

They  halted  accordingly,  and  sat,  as  Kenny  said,  "like 
craws  in  a  mist"  on  the  cold  stones,  with  volumes  of 
dense,  and  almost  palpable  vapour  eddying  and  wheeling 
around  them,  till  their  garments  were  dank  and  wet  as 
after  a  heavy  shower.  Sometimes  their  eyes  were  tan- 
talized by  a  glimpse  of  the  clear  blue  sky  appearing  over 
head,  and  again  an  opening  as  transient  would  break 
beneath  them  to  close  again,  ere  any  useful  observation 
could  be  made.  In  this  way  passed  a  weary  anxious 
hour,  the  dread  of  being  benighted  in  the  hill,  far,  far 
from  any  human  habitation,  being  counterbalanced  by 
the  danger  of  making  a  false  step  on  the  brink  of  a  pre- 
cipice, or  of  lighting  in  the  bottomless  loch  should  they 
move  from  their  present  secure,  though  comfortless  po- 
sition. 

''And  how  long  are  these  mists  apt  to  continue  com- 
monly at  this  time  of  year,  Kenny?"  inquired  Tresham, 
as  much  to  pass  the  time  and  hide  his  glowing  apprehen- 
sion, as  in  the  hope  of  receiving  any  comfortable  infor- 
mation. 

"Ou!  that's  just  as  the  w^eather  sets,  sir— sometimes 
they'll  last  for  two,  three,  or  four  days;  sometimes,  again, 
it  '11  be  on  for  an  afternoon,  and  the  next  morning  it  ill 
be  clean  awa' — we've  sometimes  been  a  hale  week  at 
the  bothy,  an'  never  seen  the  top  o'  Ben-i-skiah." 

"Pleasant,  by  Jove! — a  week's  seat  here  would  just 
suit  me — a  brilliant  incident  in  a  sportsman's  life. — And 
pray  what  do  you  augur  from  appearances  to-day?" 

"A  weel,  sir,  it's  hard  to  say;  but  the  wun's  been  in 
the  wast  for  this  week  past  or  more — an'  ye  see  it's 
round  to  the  east  this  morn,  and  that's  a  bad  airt.  It's 
like  to  be  a  wild  nicht  in  the  hill,  I'm  fear'd." 

Well  did  Tresham  know  what  w^as  meant  by  a  wild 
night;  rain,  and  wind,  and  cold,  and  darkness,  were  all 
implied  in  that  little  word,  and  much  would  he  have 
given  at  that  moment  for  the  good  gray  plaid  and  strong 
iron  frame  of  one  of  the  numerous  shepherds  that  doubt- 
less were  to  be  found  thus  exposed  in  the  wide  extent  of 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  149 

hill  and  muir  below  them.  When  they  left  the  bothy  in 
the  mornins;',  both  Tresham  and  his  attendants,  thinking- 
only  of  the  long-  stretch  of  hill  that  lay  before  them,  and 
the  expediency  of  going-  at  it  as  unincumbered  as  possi- 
ble, had  clothed  themselves  very  lightly,  and  were  con- 
sequently extremely  ill  prepared  to  encounter  the  ex- 
pected wikbiess  of  the  night.  They  were  already  com- 
pletely drenched,  chilled  and  comfortless,  when  all  at 
once  the  cloud  separated,  and  blew  away  from  around 
them,  as  if  it  had  been  swallowed  up  by  the  genius  of 
the  storm,  leaving  the  whole  summit  of  the  mountain 
dark  and  frowning,  but  free  from  mist,  and  sharply  re- 
lieved upon  the  thick  gray  sky.  "Thank  God!  thank 
God!"  exclaimed  Kenneth;  "now's  our  time — now  fol- 
low me  close,  sir,  we'll  get  the  worst  o't  owt,  '"ore  it 
closes  again,  please  God." 

There  was  no  need  of  repeating  the  exhortation: 
downwards  they  sprung,  and  slid,  and  run*,  but  scarcely 
had  they  reached  the  less  dangerous  and  precipitous 
ground  below  the  immediate  rise  of  the  summit,  when 
the  gray  cloud  once  more  enveloped  them,  and  all  was 
uncertainty,  if  not  utter  darkness  again.  "The  deeviPs 
in  the  mist  then,"  said  Kenneth,  "it 'ill  do  us  yet;  but 
I'm  thinking  we  mav  manage  at  the  least  to  get  out  o' 
the  hill;  as  for  the  bothy,  it's  twenty  long  miles  across 
thon  wild  moss,  and  thae  weary  hills,  and  it's  useless, 
and  worse  than  useless,  to  seek  our  way  there  the  nicht, 
if  this  mist  last — but  we'll  find  some  glen  or  other  surely, 
an'  get  put  up  in  some  bothy  wi'  one  o'  the  shepherd  lads 
the  nicht." 

"Aye,  but  how  are  we  to  get  to  this  same  glen,  Ken- 
ny— how  are  you  sure  we  may  not  wander  all  the 
night  in  the  moss — that  is,  11'  we  aon't  get  smothered  in 
it  before  morning?" 

"O!  no  fear  o'  that,  sir;  Ise  warrant  we'll  get  to  a 
glen,  now  we're  out  from  the  rocks;  we'll  follow  the 
first  water  we  fall  in  wi';  a  water's  aye  sure  to  bring  us 
out  o'  the  hill  someway." 

But  long  did  they  wander  before  they  found  any  other 
water  than  black  peat-pots,  and  dismal  stagnant  lochs 
among  the  hills  and  ridges,  and  sluggish  boggy  sv;amps 
in  the  hollows,  when  not  the  smallest  current  could  be 
traced  so  as  to  lead  to  its  outlet.  For  hours  they  wan- 
dered thus,  unwilling  to  sit  down  in  their  cold,  drenched 
clothes,  and  still  more  so  to  abandon  the  hope  of  extri- 
cating themselves  from  their  unpleasant  dilemma,  but 
quite  uncertain  of  their  course. 
N  2 


150  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

At  length  the  water  which  collected  from  the  drizzling 
rain  into  ihe  deep  peat-cracks,  beg^an  to  run  wiih  a  posi- 
tive current;  the  peat-cracks  themselves  enlarged  to  lit- 
tie  ravines,  and  their  united  streams  flowed  in  a  single 
channel.    Following  th>3  as  their  guide,  it  led  them  by  a 
very  tortuous  course  along  aflat  track,  in  which  it  some- 
times became  almost  stagnant  again,  at  others,  cutting 
through  the  black  earth,  down  even  to  the  granite  rock, 
it  foamed  away,  brown  as  Whitbread's  best,  among  the 
fragments  it  had  torn  from  the  sides.    After  a  while  its 
course  became  more  rapid,  its  banks  deeper,  and  in  the 
occasional  breakings  of  the  mist,  they  could  distinguish 
hills  towering  on  either  side,  more  lofty  to  the  eye  from 
the  dense  medium  through  which  they  were  seen.    By 
degrees  the  torrent  cut  deeper  into  the  substance  of  the 
mountain;    gravelly  scours    seamed   the  braes  which 
formed  its  banks;  and  its  w^aters  leaped  from  rock  to 
pool,  and  foamed  along  with   accumulating   rapidity. 
For  some  space  these  banks  were  covered  only  with  long, 
shasrgy  heather,  great  patches  of  which  had  been  burnt 
black  and  bare,  and  gray  stones,  like  the  dim  ghosts  of 
Ossian,  stared  through  the  soil.     The  faint  glimmer  of 
a  mountain  loch  was  next  seen  through  the  hovering 
vapour;  the  sides  of  which,  as  well  as  the  rocky  breasts 
of  the  hills  around  it,  were  scantily  sprinkled  with  birch 
and  alder,  and  a  few  trees  of  nativ^e  fir.    A  remarkable 
bluff' promontory  jutting  into  the  water  near  the  point 
where  the  stream  entered  it,  caught  the  eye  of  the  keep- 
er as  they  approached — ibr  the  mist  had  lifted  a  little, 
and  was  clinging  more  around  the  loftier  hills.    "God  be 
praised,"  said  he,  "we  shall  do  now;  and  it's  his  mercy 
has  brought  us  safe — no' any  skill  o'  our's — for  who  could 
tell  where  they  were  going  for  the  last  four  hours — the 
burn  has  done  it'.?  wotk  Aveel!" 

"And  where  in  the  name  of  Heaven  has  it  taken  us  to, 
after  all?"  demanded  Tresham. 

"This  is  loch  Tarnechasag,  and  the  water  that  runs 
out  o'  it  falls  into  Strath-Einort,  five  miles  from  this, 
and  Airdruthmore  is  five  miles  more  down  the  strath 
Jrom  that  again:  to  think  that  we  have  been  making  all 
this  time  for  Strath-Einort.  when  I  thought  we  wud  hae 
broke  down  on  the  side  o'  Glen  Farrigh — but  mist  and 
moss  thegether  is  more  than  the  .skill  o'  man  can  leight 
wi'." 

"But  what  said  you,  Kenny?  Airdruthmore,  Mr. 
Steward  of  Airdruthmore?  the  stout,  good-looking  old 
gentleman  who  was  at  luverallich  during  the  i)reacliing 
week?" 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  151 

"Aye,  sir,  just  the  same;  if  we  get  there  he'll  be  weel 
pleased  to  see  your  honour." 

"Aye,  faith,  and  my  honour  to  see  him,  the  fine  old 
cock.  A  better  land-fall  after  a  foul  day  could  not  have 
been  made — but  ten  miles  yet?  by  Jove!  a  pretty  sharp 
winding-up  to  such  a  day's  fag— belter  than  the  top  of 
Ben-i-skiah  though — so  here  goes,  here  goes,  for  the 
performance  of  my  promise,  and  a  draft  on  the  old  gentle- 
man's hospitality,"  muttered  Tresham  to  himself.  I'm 
a  little  before  my  time,  however — ii'importe. 

The  way  was  rough,  as  pathless  banks  of  Highland 
lochs  and  burns  are  wont  to  be.  Huge  blocks  of  stone, 
half  smothered  in  deceitful  heather,  and  rotten  earth, 
formed  so  many  traps  for  the  legs  of  the  weary  travel- 
lers. They  had  to  climb  several  round  and  steep  hills 
of  gravel,  just  as  it  seemed  for  the  plague  of  descending 
them  on  the  opposite  side.  Then  the  steepness  of  the 
banks  forced  them  to  keep  in  the  rough  bed  of  the  stream, 
and  pick  their  painful  way  along  the  stones  of  its  sides 
and  bottom.  The  occurrence  of  a  sheep-track  was  a, 
rare  luxury;  and  it  was  not  until  they  were  within  a 
mile  of  the  strath  that  they  were  favoured  with  a  regu- 
lar pathway. 

The  rain,  which  had  perplexed  them  more  or  less  for 
the  whole  day,  had  now  increased  from  a  mere  "Scotch 
mist,"  to  a  close,  continuous,  sharp  drift,  which  aggra- 
vated the  discomfort  of  their  progress;  and  just  as  they 
had  reached  the  albrementioned  path,  Tresham,  by  that 
time  much  fatigued,  in  carelessly  going  down  a  steep 
bit,  made  a  false  step,  in  which  his  foot  turned  under 
him,  and  he  came  in  no  gentle  manner  to  the  ground, 
with  a  severely  strained  ancle.  This  put  the  finishing 
stroke  to  their  distress.  "Ochone,  ochonel  wdiat  wiU 
we  do  now  in  the  world?"  exclaimed  Kenny,  as  the 
young  man  rose  with  pain  and  dilRculty,  and  limped  to 
a  stone  near  him. 

Sick  with  the  wrench  and  the  shock,  it  was  sometime 
ere  he  could  reply;  but  when  the  first  thrill  of  pain  was 
over,  he  declared  it  was  nothing — he  was  better — well 
enough  to  attempt  getting  forward,  "though  this  is  not 
just  tlie  best  way,"  said  he,  "of  shortening  a  long  road, 
or  lightening  a  hard  day's  work." 

He  had  overrated  his  powers,  however.  It  was  with 
great  pain  and  difficulty,  that,  eui}ported  by  Kenneth 
and  the  gillie,  he  reached  the  strath,  where  an  indiffer- 
ent cart-road  seemed  to  announce  that  he  had  arrived 
at  a  more  frequented  country.    Bad  as  it  was,  it  pre- 


152  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

sented  fewer  obstacles  than  the  rough  path  they  had  till 
then  been  forced  to  use;  and  while  the  hurt  was  still 
fresh,  and  the  limb  supple,  the  unfortunate  sportsman 
contrived  to  hobble  on  for  a  mile  or  two  further;  and 
just  as  he  was  almost  utterly  exhausted,  a  Highland 
cart  passing  down  the  strath,  overtook  the  drenchand 
forlorn  party,  and  was  immediately  engaged  to  carry 
the  disabled'Englishman  to  Airdruthmore. 

Night  had  closed  in  before  they  reached  their  destina- 
tion, so  that  between  darkness  and  discomfort,  Tresham 
could  see  little  of  the  place  to  which  he  was  thus  so 
strangely  about  to  be  introduced.  He  only  remarked 
that  the  cart  crossed  a  wooden  bridge  not  far  from  the 
house,  then  entered  among  trees,  through  which  it 
drove  for  a  little  distance,  and  then  swept  around  to  the 
front  of  a  mansion  of  considerable  size,  from  the  windows 
of  which  lights  were  gleaming  with  a  hospitable  bright- 
ness that  promised  a  kind  and  hearty  welcome.  It  was 
a  promise  never  broken  to  the  hope  or  to  the  sense  by 
the  inmates  of  Airdruthmore. 

The  sound  of  wheels  speedily  brought  a  servant  to  the 
door,  and  scarce  had  he  delivered  the  message  that  had 
been  given  in  reply  to  his  inquiries,  when  out  rushed  the 
honest  laird  himself,  with  his  white  locks  flowing  in  the 
night  breeze,  and  his  face  beaming  with  kindness  and 
concern.  "God  bless  my  soul,  is  this  you,  Mr.  Tre- 
sham?" exclaimed  he,  eagerly;  ''what's  this  has  hap- 
pened? Are  ye  much  hurt?  I'm  grieved  to  see  ye  in  such 
a  way,  man!"  Tresham  endeavoured  to  meet  the  old 
gentleman's  kindness  with  a  smile,  and  reminded  him, 
naif  jokingly,  of  his  promise  to  be  soon  at  Airdruthmore. 
"Aye,  aye,  my  good  young  friend,  I  did  hope  to  see  ye, 
and  soon  too — but  no'  in  such  a  condition — no,  nor  in 
such  a  night — 1  hope  it's  no  much,  after  all;  ye've  had  a 
wild  afternoon — but  it's  an  ill  wind  they  say,  that  blovys 
no  one  good.  I  am  proud  and  happy  to  see  you  at  Air- 
druthmore, any  how,  and  we'll  soon  have  you  on  your 
legs  again,  no  fear.  Softly— softly,  canny,  man,"  con- 
tinued he,  as  he  assisted  Tresham  out  of  the  cart, 
"The  foot's  no  broke,  I  hope — we'll  have  a  lad  off  for 
the  doctor  in  a  minute — so — can  ye  put  it  to  the  ground? 
that's  it.    Ah,  it's  no'  so  bad— ye'll  do  yet." 

Tresham,  writhing  with  pain,  for  his  ancle  had  be- 
come stiff  and  swelled,  but  reluctant  to  give  trouble,  en- 
deavoured to  assure  his  worthy  host  that  it  was  only  a 
slight  sprain — that  next  morning  he  should  be  perfectly 
well — no  need  whatever  of  a  doctor.    But  his  feelings 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  153 

at  the  instant  gave  the  lie  to  the  assertion,  for  while  he 
spoke  his  very  heart  grew  sick,  his  eyes  reeled,  and  had 
it  not  been  for  the  laird  and  Kenny,  who  supported  him, 
he  would  have  fallen  to  the  ground.  "Odds  mercies, 
man,"  this  is  a  bad  job,  said  the  old  gentleman,"  now 
much  alarmed.  "Here,  lads,  carry  him  carefully.  Belle 
— Belle,  lassie!  where  are  ye?" 

"Here,  father,"  uttered  a  silver-toned  voice,  in  ac- 
cents so  different  from  those  around  him,  that  ill  as  he 
was,  they  reached  the  ear  of  Tresham,  and  possibly  had 
some  share  in  recalling  him  to  himself 

"Belle,  my  dear,  see  and  get  the  bed  ready  in  the  blue 
room — it's  warm,  and  easy  got  at — \ye'll  get  Mr.  Tre- 
sham  carried  there — we'll  put  him  to  his  bed  at  once — ho's 
no'  fit  to  come  amongst  us  the  night,  I'm  afraid.  And 
stay,  tell  old  Grizzle  to  get  some  mulled  wine  ready — 
he's  dripping  wet — he'll  get  his  death  of  cold;  and  see, 
darling,  tell  them  to  get  the  hotchpotch  warmed  up — 
and  a  slice  of  the  broiled  salmon — and — and  any  thing 
else  ye  think  of— the  lad's  been  all  day  in  the  hill — he 
must,  be  starving  of  hunger." 

While  the  old  gentleman  was  bustling  about  and  issu- 
ing these  hospitable  mandates,  Tresham,  by  his  help, 
and  that  of  the  servants,  was  carried  into  a  comfortable 
parlour,  or  dining-room  rather,  for  the  table,  still  cover- 
ed with  glasses  and  plates,  and  the  reniains  ol"  fruit,  be- 
tokened ^its  use.  A  glass  of  wine  was  tendered  and 
gratefully  received;  but  the  young  man  resisted  every 
proposal  to  undress  him  where  he  was,  as  his  enersretic 
lost  would  have  insisted  on,  "Just  to  get  the  chill  oti' 
lim;  what  should  he  be  waiting  for,  and  standing  oa 
ceremony,  where  there  was  no  need  of  it,  and  him  as 
wet  as  if  he  had  been  hauled  through  the  river?"  In  a 
very  little  time,  however,  the  active  efforts  of  "Belle," 
and  the  housekeeper,  had  prepared  the  "blue  room," 
and  the  same  silver  tones  announced  Mr.  Tresham's 
apartment  to  be  quite  ready.  The  young  man,  starting 
at  the  sound,  turned  his  head  v;ith  quickness,  and  just 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  white  garments  of  a  female  form, 
which  his  ardent  imagination,  "unchilled  by  the  rain," 
and  unchecked  by  his  anguish,  instantly  gifted  with  all 
the  charms  appropriate  to  so  melodious  a  voice.  But 
the  glimpse  was  too  momentary  for  more;  and  Tresham 
was  immediately  transported  with  the  tenderest  care  to 
a  very  comfortable  apartment,  where  a  glowing  fire  of 
wood  and  peats  blazed  in  the  chimney,  and  an  easy  chair 
invited  his  weary  limbs  to  repose. 


15i  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

Not  until  he  had  seen  his  guest  stripped  of  every  wet 
habiUment,  and  clothed  in  a  comfortable  wrapping  gown 
of  his  own,  would  the  kind  old  laird  consent  to  quit  his 
young  guest  for  a  moment.  Then,  having  bestowed  the 
injured,  and  by  that  time  much  swollen  limb,  upon  a  low 
stool  with  abundance  of  cushions,  he  departed  to  provide 
for  the  further  refection  and  comfort  of  his  new  inmate. 
It  is  true,  that  Tresham  protested  in  strong  terms  against 
the  alarming  preparatives  in  the  line  of  "pro vant"  which 
his  host  had  been  overheard  to  order;  but  in  spite  of  pain 
and  fatigue,  he  did  not  fail  to  dispose  of  a  reasonable  por- 
tion of  that  admirable  hotchpotch,  the  existence  of  which 
has  been  made  known  to  the  reader,  together  with  some 
further  "light  food"  in  the  shape  of  a  slice  of  broiled  sal- 
mon, half  a  howtowdy,  and  a  few  other  trifles.  What 
would  the  worthy  Dr.  Abernethy  have  said  to  such  a 
dinnerforawoundedman! — but  "hunger isagood sauce," 
and  Tresham  had  no  Dr.  Pedro  Positive,  of  Snatcha- 
way,*  at  his  elbow  to  spirit  away  each  dish  ere  its  odour 
had  well  reached  his  nostrils. 

An  aged  matron,  Grizzy  Mac  Farlane  byname,  a  right 
good  specimen  of  the  ancient  Highland  housekeeper,  now 
made  her  appearance,  armed  with  a  whole  cargo  of 
lotions  and  decoctions  and  fomentations  and  infallible 
charms,  together  with  flannels,  bandages,  plaisters,  and 
lint,  and  all  the  formidable  apparatus  of  domestic  sur- 
gery, and  animated  with  the  benevolent  dispositions  of 
half-a-dozen  Lady  Bountifuls.  A  snow-white  toy,  with 
lappets  in  the  usual  Highland  fashion,  and  but  little  more 
ornam.ented,  covered  the  locks  of  this  respectable  ma- 
tron, whose  mild  gray  eyes,  fair  round  cheeks,  and  good- 
humoured  mouth,  wore  the  habitual  smile  of  active  be- 
nevolence and  unaffected  kind-heartedness.  She  was 
stout  and  short,  but  trotted  about  the  house  with  indefa- 
tigable industry  in  the  discharge  of  her  multifarious  du- 
ties, while  the  clanking  of  a  monstrous  bunch  of  keys 
sufficiently  proclaimed  her  approach,  and  marked  her 
progress  through  the  establishment  which  she  superin- 
tended. 

Drawing  near  her  patient  with  numberless  smiles  and 
curtseys,  she  commenced  in  a  strong  Highland  accent  to 
condole  with  him,  and  to  inquire  into  the  state  of  his 
case.  "Ohoni-ohone!  ii'it's  no'  a'  swalled  up  like  a  white 
puddingi"  exclaimed  she  in  a  tone  of  infinite  commisera- 

*The  reader  cannot  fail  to  remember  the  distress  of  the  worthy 
Sancho  Panza  in  his  government  of  Barataria  from  this  source. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  155 

tion,  as  soon  as  Tresham  had  uncovered  the  injured 
limb;  "Whisht  noo'  Meithal,*  wait  ye  awee— PIJ  no  hurt 
it.  the  laest — Ouve-ouve — it's  baadly  hurt — but  dinna  be 
fear't,  we'll  sune  put  it  a'richt;''  and  while  she  uttered 
these  disjointed  words  in  a  low  compassionate  croon, 
with  a  hand  as  gentle  as  that  of  the  most  experienced 
surgeon,  she  commenced  first  to  touch,  and  by  degrees 
to  rub  it  gently.  The  first  touch  was  almost  torture  to 
1  he  injured  part,  but  after  a  few  ahs!  andohs!  and  setting 
his  teeth  to  endure  the  worst,  he  found  the  treatment 
become  more  tolerable,  and  could  more  easily  endure  the 
next  operation,  which  was  fomenting  the  strained  and 
rigid  muscles  with  some  decoction  held  in  a  basin  by  her 
assistant.  He  was  astonished,  after  a  while,  at  tne  re- 
lief he  began  to  experience. 

"You  seem  quite  up  to  this  sortof  work,  my  good  lady," 
said  he,  as  she  proceeded.  "I  really  think  you  are  already 
doing  it  good." 

"Ou,  what  then,  my  dear?"  returned  Grizzle,  "What 
wud  ail  me?  Is  na  it  the  best  o'  blessed  vervain  that's 
in't;  that  was  gathered  the  very  meenat  o'  the  full  moon 
by  mysel' — an'  was  na  the  water  that  it's  bil'd  in,  brought 
a'  the  way  frae  St.  Magnus'  wall,  an'  never  a  word  said 
the  hail  time  by  her  that  brou;^htit,  an'  she  a  maiden  too 
— it's  certain  sure  to  salve  all  It  touches." 

"Well,  I  hope  it  will  not  fail  in  the  present  case;  I'm 
sure,  if  skill  will  aid  it,  vou  seem  to  have  it.  I  dare  say 
you  have  a  good  deal  of  practice  here?" 

"Ochonelsir;  and  it's  me  that  wud  need  to  ken  some- 
thing o'  the  work,  an'  no  a  doctor  within  tv^al'  mile  o'  the 
town,  an'  the  laad's  eye  coming  in  wi'  cuts  and  bruises 
and  broken  bones — but  it's  the  Lord's  pleasure  to  bless 
what  a  poor  ould  wife  like  me  'i'l  be  doing,"  continued 
Grizzie  with  somewhat  of  the  humility  of  conscious 
merit. 

"Aye,  aye,"  interrupted  the  cheerful  voice  of  the  laird, 
who  "just  then  entered  the  room  to  learn  how  his  guest 
came  on.  "Grizzle's  the  woman  for  ye. — Skill!— Odds, 
man,  Grizzie  will  set  ye  to  rights  before  ye're  two  days 
older. — What  say  you,  Grizzie?" 

"Ou,  'deed  Airdruthmore,  Grizzie  '11  do  her  best,  and 
that's  a'  she  can  do,  ye  ken;  but  there's  no  use  in  false 
tales.  We'll  see  the  morn's  morn— if  the  swelling  fa's 
then,  I'm  thinking  a  week's  rest  may  gie  the  young  gen- 
tleman some  use  o'  his  fut  again," 

*An  expression  of  great  endearment 


156  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

"A  week! — my  good  lady! — you  don't  mean  to  condemn 
me  to  a  week's  confinement  for  this  paltry  accident,  I 
hope." 

"Oil — is  it  me,  your  honour?  far  be  it  frae  me  to  con- 
fine you?"  said  Grizzle,  somewhat  startled,  and  perhaps 
hurt  a  little  at  the  young-  gentleman's  impetuosity;  "it's 
the  Lord's  will,  and  no  Grizzie  Mac  Farlane's,  that  '11 
mak'  the  time  long  or  short — but  'long  ill's  sunest  weel,' 
they  say." 

"Well,  well,  my  good  lady;  I'm  sure  it  will  not  be  your^ 
fault  if  I  don't  get  soon  over  it.  But  I  cannot  think  of 
trevspassing  on  Airdruthmore's  kindness,  by  intruding  for 
such  an  age  as  you  hint  at — the  day  after  to-morrow,  I 
hope." 

"Day  after  to-morrow!"  re-echoed  the  laird — "day  af- 
ter Christmas  say! — De'el  be  in  us  both,  lad,  if  it's  a 
week  or  a  fortnight  either,  that  shall  part  us  now  we've 
got  ye— ye're  no  so  easy  to  catch,  my  young  man;  and 
now  we  have  a  hold  of  ye,  out  of  Strath  Elinort,  de'el  a 
foot  shall  ye  budge  till  ye  know  a  little  more  of  us. — 
What,  man! — we  have  grouse  and  ptarmighan  and  black 
game  and  partridge,  as  well  as  Glenvallich,  and  there's 
enough  to  see  in  this  poor  country  of  ours  even  ibr  you, 
wonder-hunting  Sassenachs.  Havn't  we  the  old  castle 
of  Drumspinie,  and  thevitrifiedfort  of  Dunvreakan,  that 
some  vilify  by  calling  it  an  old  ruined  sheep-fauk?  And 
isn't  there  the  disputed  Roman  camp  on  the  Mealmore, 
that  caused  the  great  cast-out  between  the  two  famous 
antiquarians.  Dr.  Mac  Gudgeon,  and  Mr.  Silvester  Tre- 
gotlius,  the  LL.D.  andA.  S.S.? — I  expect  you  will  act 
oversman  between  them,  and  settle  the  question. — Why, 
we  have  enough  within  fifteen  miles  of  Airdruthmore 
to  keep  an  enthusiast  a5:  you  are,  or  ought  to  be,  agape 
for  a  month — not  to  speak  of  the  beauties  of  our  own 
glen  just  behind  the  house. — But  that  I  leave  to  Belle- 
ray  daughter  Isabelle — who  will  match  you  for  your  life 
in  the  true  poetic  fury  and  romance." 

The  good  laird,  having  run  himself  out  of  breath  by 
this  sudden  burst,  his  guest  had  now  time  to  edge  in  a 
word,  and  but  a  word.  "Indeed,  my  good  sir,  I  would 
not  by  any  means  be  ungrateful  for  your  hospitable  invi- 
tation, but — " 

"But  fiddlesticks,  man. — Don't  be  ungrateful,  then, 
but  accept  it  frankly  as  it  is  given.  Stay  with  us — na;>'. 
I'll  hear  nothing  more  to-night  positively.  God  tbrbid 
that  you  should  be  tied  by  the  leg,  as  old  Grizzie  there 
threatens,  but  tied  by  the  will,  and  desire  to  do  a  kind- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  157 

negs  to  an  old  Highlander  like  me,  I  hope  you  will  be, 
even  for  a  longer  time  than  Grizzle's  threatened  era- 
barsro." 

What  could  Tresham  do  or  say  to  all  this,  but  reite- 
rate his  thanks  and  hopes  that  the  trouble  he  must  in- 
evitably give  might  be  ofno  very  long  duration. 

"Aye,  aye,"  said  Grizzle,  with  a  most  sententious 
shake  of  the  head,  as  after  finishing  her  fomentations, 
and  binding  up  the  leg,  she  prepared  to  retire:  "Mind  ye 
what  I  said  afore,  laird — 'langest  ill,  sunest  weel;'  dinna 
let  this  bonnie  young  gentleman  mak'  a  fule's  flitting  and 
be  off 'ore  he's  fit  for't." 

"Trust  me  for  that,  Grizzle,"  replied  the  laird,  return- 
ing her  sagacious  shake  by  a  knowing  nod;  "but  in  the 
mean  time,  here's  Thomas  and  Kenny  come  to  put  him 
to  bed. — So  God  bless  you,  Tresham,  sleep  sound,  and 
wake  well,  my  boy;"  and  with  these  words  the  worthy 
old  gentleman  quitted  the  apartment. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


AN     INTRODUCTION. 

O  beaulie,  syren!  fair,  enchanting,  good! 
Soft,  silent  rhetoreck  of  perswading  eyes! 
Dumb  eloquence!  whose  power  doth  move  the  blood 
More  than  the  works  or  wonders  of  ihe  wise! 

The  surgical  operations  of  Mrs.  Grizzle  Mac  Farlane 
were  attended  with  all  the  success  that  could  reasonably 
have  been  expected;  for  after  a  night  of  very  tolerable 
repose,  Tresham  awoke  on  the  morrow  free  from  actual 
pain.  A  considerable  degree  of  tension  still  remained, 
however,  and  upon  attempting  to  put  his  foot  to  the 
ground  he  received  a  hint  of  its  powerlessness,  which 
speedily  induced  him  to  resume  the  horizontal  posture  he 
had  somewhat  rashly  quitted,  and  which  went  far  to  con- 
vince him  of  the  accuracy  of  the  old  lady's  alarming  pre- 
diction. A  zealous  perseverance  in  her  sanitive  method 
of  treatment  throughout  the  day,  however,  produced 
euch  beneficial  effects,  that  in  the  evening  Tresham  with 

VOL.  I.  0 


158  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

the  help  of  a  servant,  removed  from  his  bed  to  the  easy 
chair,  eat  his  dinner  in  comfort,  and  on  the  succeeding? 
morning  could  scarcely  be  withheld  from  limping  down 
to  breakfast. 

The  united  remonstrances  of  his  worthy  host,  who 
had  attended  him  all  the  time  with  unceasing  solicitude, 
and  of  his  able  chirurgeon,  Mrs.  Grizzie  Mac  Farlane, 
who  still  persevered  with  her  embrocations  and  incanta- 
tions, could  detain  their  unmanageable  patient  in  bis 
apartment  no  longer  than  the  afternoon,  when  wearied 
"with  confinement ,  and  desirous  to  make  himself  acquaint- 
ed with  the  other  inmates  of  the  mansion,  he  insisted  on 
joining  the  family  at  dinner  in  the  dining-room.  The  par- 
donable vanity  of  a  young  and  handsome  man  might  have 
revolted  at  the  thought  of  appearing  in  the  presence  of 
a  female,  or  females,  for  aught  he  ^new,  either  in  his 
weather-beaten  shooting-dress,  or  in  the  old  laird's 
dressing-gown,  and  such  a  feeling  might  have  operated 
more  powerfully  in  keeping  him  to  his  chamber,  than  all 
the  wise  remonstrances  of  his  friends.  But  the  active 
attention  of  his  host  had  spared  him  so  distressing  a  di- 
lemma, for  early  on  the  morning  after  his  arrival,  a  long- 
legged  gillie  had  been  despatched  across  the  hill  to  the 
shooting  bothy  with  a  note,  informing  his  friends  of 
Tresham's  accident,  and  requesting  the  presence  of  his 
own  servant,  together  with  such  a  supply  from  his  ward- 
robe as  might  ennble  him  to  remain  with  comfort  in  his 
present  abode.  The  note  was  calculated  to  remove  all 
apprehensions  as  to  consequences,  but  to  prepare  the 
laird  of  Glenvallich  for  an  absence  of  some  duration  on 
the  part  of  his  friend.  In  this  way  Tresham  w^as  en- 
abled to  appear  before  the  family  of  his  host  in  a  style 
calculated  not  only  to  do  credit  to  his  tailor  and  to  him- 
self, but  to  create  a  favourable  impression — and  every 
one  knows  the  value  of  first  impressions — on  his  new 
friends.  Perhaps  the  circumstance  of  his  lameness  tended 
rather  to  increase  than  diminish  this  happy  effect,  by  ex- 
citing the  sympathy  as  well  as  the  curiosity  of  the  house- 
hold, and  we  have  been  credibly  informed  that  Dame 
Grizzie,  in  reply  to  the  questions  which  were  poured 
upon  her  by  men  and  maids,  after  returning  from  admi- 
nistering to  the  stranger's  hurts,  declared  "that  his  fut 
was  as  white  as  a  lily  and  as  bonnie  as  a  leddie's,  if  it 
were  na  sae  swall'd  like — that  his  face  was  far  handsomer 
than  Ballytully's,  or  the  young  laird  o'  Dalrisi)ie's — that 
his  tongue  was  like  a  siller  bell,  and  he  spoke  an'  joked 
wi  a'  about  him  as  kindly  as  the  laird  himseP — God  bless 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  159 

him!"  Praise  so  strong,  and  from  so  authentic  a  quarter 
and  so  competent  a  judge,  could  not  fail  of  having  its  due 
effect  in  the  lower  house  at  least;  but  as  Tresham  was 
ignorant  of  this  secret  influence  working  in  his  favour, 
he  could  not,  in  spite  of  his  well-bred  ease  and  knowledge 
of  the  world,  suppress  a  slight  confusion,  as  supported 
on  the  arm  of  his  host,  and  leaning  on  a  stick,  he  limped 
into  the  drawing-room,  a  short  time  before  the  summons 
to  dinner. 

"Belle,  my  dear,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  addressing 
a  young  lady,  who,  with  a  look  of  much  interest,  rose 
from  her  seat,  and  advancing  towards  them,  curtsied 
with  an  air  of  the  most  polished  elegance — "Belle,  my 
dear,  this  is  our  mpaiient  patient,  my  friend  Mr.  Tre- 
sham, of  whom  you  have  frequently  heard  me  speak, 
and  whom  I  hope  you  will  help  me  to  keep  amongst  us 
a  good  while  longer  than  his  hurt  may  detain  him." 

"I  am  most  happy  to  see  Mr.  Tresham  already  so  far 
recovered,"  responded  the  same  silver  voice,  whose 
tones  dwelt  so  pleasingly  upon  his  memory;  "and  certainly 
nothing  on  our  parts  shall  be  wanting  to  render  Air- 
druthmore  a  pleasant  residence,  as  long^as  he  will  favour 
us  by  making  it  his  home.  But  we  have,  T  am  sure,  a 
claim  on  Mr.  Tresham's  acquaintance  which  I  never 
thought  of  before.  I  am  confident,  my  dear  father,  that 
our  guest  must  be  brother  to  my  friend  Maria.  Am  I 
right,  Mr.  Tresham?  Had  you  not  a  sister  at  Mrs. 
Leslie's  school?" 

"Undoubtedly  I  had.  Miss  Stewart — my  only  sister 
Maria.  I  am  delighted  at  the  circumstance,  but  I  won- 
der Maria  never  said  a  w^ord  to  me  upon  the  subject." 

"Ah!  Maria  possibly  never  dreamt  of  your  penetrating 
so  far  into  these  distant  and  unknown  regions;  but  I  am 
not  the  less  happy,  I  assure  you,  to  welcome  so  near  a 
relative  of  my  friend's  to  this  place."  And  with  another 
courteous  inclination  the  young  lady  resumed  her  seat. 

The  laird  then  proceeded  to  name  the  otiier  guests. 
"My  sister,  Mrs.  Mac  Donald,  Mr.  Tresham— Miss 
Robertson — Mr.  Robertson  of  Ballgowrie.  Ballytully, 
you  and  Mr.  Tresham  are  already  acquainted.  Now, 
sit  down.  I  don't  think,  bold  as  ye  seem,  Mr.  Tresham, 
your  legs  are  fit  to  stand  on  yet." 

"A  bad  accident  this,  sir,"  remarked  Mr.  Robertson, 
by  way  of  opening  the  conversation;  "and  happened  at  a 
bad  time,  too,  for  a  sportsman.  But  may  be  you're  not 
well  used  to  our  hills  yet— they're  rough  and  steep  and 
wearisome." 


160  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

"Trepham  not  up  to  our  hills,  Balgowrie!"  exclaimed, 
the  laird,  "ye  httle  know  him.  Let  the  deer  of  Gleno- 
chree  speak  to  that.  I'll  back  the  lad  against  any  in  the> 
country,  Highland  or  Lowland;  thouo:h  these  southern 
gentry  are  Better  on  the  back  of  a  horse  after  the  fox 
hounds,  or  in  a  turnip  field  after  a  covey  of  partridges, 
than  stalking  the  deer  or  ranging  the  muirs,  as  we  have 
done  in  our  youth,  my  old  boy." 

"Aye,  faith,  in  our  youth  ye  may  say,  Airdruthmore; 
for  it's  long  since  I  troubled  stag,  or  hind,  or  muir-cock 
cither;  and  truth  to  say,  it  woulcl  be  little  praise  to  Mr. 
Tresham,  if  he  were  no  better  than  me  in  my  best  days 
— I  never  was  any  great  Nimrod.  As  for  you,  laird,  ve 
was  a  good  hand  once,  and  faith,  I  would  na  trust  ye  if  a 
pair  often  tyne  antlers  came  in  sight  above  the  hill,  two 
miles  off,  and  ye,  with  brown  Bess  in  ye're  hand." 

"Hah!  hah!" man!— think  ye  so?  No,  no;  these  days 
are  over.  As  for  young  Tresham  here — faith,  after  the 
scurry  he  made  to  yon  strange  bothy,  that  shall  be  name- 
less—ye mind  it,  Ballytully— I'll  no  trust  to  moss  or  hill 
to  stop  him." 

There  was  an  expression  in  Ballytully's  eye  which 
had  more  than  once  come  under  the  observation  of 
Tresham,  when  allusion  chanced  to  be  made  to  his 
own  involuntary  visit  to  Glen  Shlichard;  or  indeed  to 
any  subject  connected  with  smuggling.  It  was  a  dark, 
sinister  scowl,  as  singular  as  unaccountable;  and  Tre- 
sham could  sometimes  have  imagined  it  was  peculiarly 
directed  against  himself  On  the  present  occasion,  it 
faded  almost  as  soon  as  visible,  and  the  announcement 
of  dinner  prevented  all  further  discourse.  "Come, 
come,  my  young  friend,"  said  the  laird,  observing  Tre- 
sham attempting  to  rise,  "you're  in  no  tune  for  playing 
the  gallant,  1  take  it.  Balgowrie,  take  charge  of  my 
sister — Ballytully,  do  you  squire  Belle — Miss  Sally  dear, 
off  with  you  before  us — I  must  take  care  of  the  invalid 
myself;" — and  in  this  order  away  they  all  moved  to  the 
dining-room. 

Tresham,  in  spite  of  his  disability,  would  have  pro- 
tested against  an  arrangement  which  was  calculated  to 
infringe  upon  his  privilege  as  a  guest,  of  sitting  by,  and 
improving  his  acquaintance  with  the  young  lady  of  the 
mansion,  in  whom  he  had  already  discovered  so  many 
claims  to  his  regard.  But  although  the  laird  was  abso- 
lute so  far  as  regarded  the  preliminary  ceremonies,  he 
was  guiltless  of  conceiving  the  injustice  which  the  young 
man  imputed  to  him.    It  on  the  contrary  appeared,  that 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  161 

the  very  arrangement  coveted  by  Treshara,  was  the 
one  contemplated  by  the  old  gentleman;  for  no  sooner 
had  the  company  begun  to  take  their  places  than  he 
called  out,  "Come  here,  Ballytully,  I  want  you  by  my- 
self; ye  must  help  me  with  this  leg-  of  mutton.  Come, 
take  your  place  between  Miss  Sally  and  me.  Mr.  Tre- 
shara, you  must  be  Belle's  aid-de-camp — ye  can  carve  a 
turkey,  if  ye  canna  hand  a  lady — ye  can  cut  up  a  grouse, 
if  ye  can't  shoot  one  yet." 

The  alacrity  with  which  Tresham  obeyed  this  man- 
date may  easily  be  conceived,  and  the  satisfaction  which 
beamed  from,  his  countenance  formed  a  ludicrous  con- 
trast with  the  sullen  and  dogged  aspect  of  Ballytully, 
as  he  yielded  the  place  of  honour.  The  expression  was 
not  unmarked  by  its  object,  and  served  to  nourish  a 
rising  antipathy  which  the  young  Englishman  had  al- 
most insensibly  imbibed  against  the  ungracious  Mr. 
Macaskill,  at  a  very  early  period  of  their  acquaintance. 

The  dinner  hour  passed  very  agreeably  in  the  opinion 
of  Tresham;  tor  though  the  duties~of  a  courteous  hostess, 
and  an  attentive  aid-de-carnp,  precluded  the  possibihty 
of  much  interesting  or  detailed  conversation  during"  the 
height  of  the  attack,  he  enjoyed  ample  opportunity  to 
remark  the  graceful  kindness  with  which  these  duties 
were  discharged;  to  observe  the  beaming  beauty  ot"  her 
countenance,  as  it  turned  its  animated  smile  towards 
him,  or  the  elegant  outline  of  her  profile  as  she  address- 
ed his  opposite  neighbour.  A  warm  admirer  of  beauty, 
Tresham  was  not  less  delighted  than  surprised,  by  the 
graceful  lovehness  and  polished  ease  of  his  fair  hostess, 
the  more  so,  doubtless,  that  he  had  little  expected  to 
meet  with  such  attractions  in  the  wilds  of  the  Highlands. 
The  fascination  was  irresistible  as  unlooked  for:  before 
dinner  was  over  he  was  captivated,  and  there  is  httle 
doubt  that  the  silent  eloquence  of  the  young  lady's  eyes 
had  more  etiect  during  that  short  period  in  reconciling 
him  to  a  protracted  confinement,  than  all  the  hospitable 
entreaties  of  her  worthy  and  warm-hearted  father. 

But  enthusiasts,  of  whatever  description,  must  eat 
like  other  people;  and  we  shall  not  take  upon  ourselves 
to  affirm  that  the  eyes  and  ear.^  of  the  young  English- 
man were  the  only  organs  employed  by  him  on  this  oc- 
casion. On  the  contrary,  there  is  ^ood  authority  for 
believing  that  he  as  well  as  others  did  ample  honour  to 
the  hospitable  profusion  ol'  their  host.  The  happiest 
hour  will  fleet,  however,  and  the  best  dinner  must  come 
to  an  end.  We  shall  therefore  suppose  the  hotchpotch, 
0  2 


162  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

that  queen  of  soups,  to  be  fairly  discussed — the  red  loch 
trouts,  fresh  from  their  native  element,  duly  disposed  of 
— the  five-year  old  mutton,  dark  of  hue  and  rich  of  fat, 
retreating  with  a  lamentable  hiatus  in  its  muscular  sub- 
stance—the delicate  roasted  grouse,  hobbling  from  the 
fray,  winged  to  some  purpose — tarts,  puddings,  creams, 
and  jellies,  the  pride  of  old  Grizzle's  culinary  science, 
with  all  their  fantastic  forms  and  garnishes,  quitting  the 
field  in  amorphous  confusion  and  dire  discomfiture— the 
goat,  and  the  ewe,  and  the  rich  cream  cheeses,  disap- 
pearing after  sustaining  a  close  and  destructive  attack. 
We  shall  suppose  the  dessert  and  the  ladies  withdrawn: 
the  ofoocl  old  port  and  sherry — aye,  and  the  rich-flavour- 
ed cTaret  of  the  choicest  vintages,  imported  long  ere  his^ 
Majesty's  ministers  had  conceived  the  atrocious  idea  of 
clogging  the  generous  beverage  with  invidious  duties, 
and  brought  in,  in  purpose-like  cobwebbed  bottles;— we 
shall  suppose  all  these  inviting  liquors  abandoned  for 
the  still  more  irresistible  bowl  of  smoking  punch,  or 
rather  toddy,  brewed  by  the  laird's  own  cunning  hands 
from  the  primest  of  "mountain  dew;"  and  the  gentle- 
men, in  social  mood,  fairly  disposed  to  enjoy  the  hour, 
seated  round  the  cheerful  embers  of  a  wood  fire,  which 
the  damp  of  an  autumnal  evening  rendered  far  from  un- 
pleasant in  a  Highland  glen. 

It  was  our  purpose,  gentle  reader,  seeing  that  we  have 
at  all  times  thy  edification  in  view,  to  have  in  this  place 
recommended  our  labours,  and  increased  thy  delecta- 
tion, by  reporting  duly  the  long  and  interesting  conver- 
sation which  on  this  occasion  took  place  between  the 
worthies  we  have  seen  so  comfortably  appointed.  We 
purpose  to  have  instructed  thee  in  many  matters  of  mo- 
ment connected  with  Highland  economy;  to  have  ex- 
patiated on  the  various  agricultural  systems,  which  ob- 
tain in  these  mtramontane  districts;  and,  in  short,  to  have 
let  thee  info  the  secret  of  abundance  of  "parish  business," 
connected  with  these  parts.  But  taking  into  considera- 
tion that  there  is  an  infinite  variety  in  tastes;  that,  not- 
withstanding the  weight  and  importance  of  such  mat- 
ters, and  the  engrossing  interest  which  they  would  ex- 
cite in  many  who  thirst  after  valuable  information,  there 
may  be  some  classes  of  our  readers — particularly  among 
the  fair  sex  (God  bless  them!) — to  whom  such  topics 
misrht  prove  less  delectable;  and  having  it  greatly  at 
heart  to  make  our  labours  as  acceptable  as  possible  tcr 
all,  we  shall  refrain  t>om  indulging  in  this  valuable  dis- 
quisition.   The  profound  philosophy  and  deep  research 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  163 

which  it  involves,  shall  for  the  present,  lie  perdue  in  our 
literary  cryptsj  while  we  accompany  our  friend  Tre- 
sham,  who  pleading  the  privilege  of  an  invalid,  seized 
the  earliest  occasion  to  escape  from  the  punch-bowl,  to 
the  drawing-room  and  the  tea-table. 

Miss  Stewart,  having  deputed  her  aunt  to  perform 
the  duties  of  that  department,  was  seated  on  a  sola,  at 
work  upon  some  elegant  trifle.  "Is  it  possible,  Mr. 
Tresham,"  said  she,  smiling,  as  he  took  his  seat  beside 
her;  "can  you  so  soon  have  abandoned  the  pleasure  of 
fighting  over  your  sporting  campaigns,  and  re-slaughter- 
ing the  slain,  or  discussing  the  interesting  topics  of 
Highland  farming,  and  hreecis  of  sheep  and  cattle,  with 
which  your  stay  in  the  Highlands  has  no  doubt  familiar- 
ized you?  1  hope  we  don't  owe  this  early  visit,  this  mark 
of  your  gallantry,  to  any  serious  sacrifice  on  your  part?"' 

''Indeed  I  have  no  merit  whatever  to  lay  claim  to, 
unless  having  the  courage  to  folIoAv  my  own  inclination 
be  such,"  replied  Tresham;  'I  am  little  of  a  toper  at  any 
time,  and  temperance,  is  now,"  (glancing  at  his  ban- 
daged limb.)  '"more  than  ordinarily  expedient;  perhaps, 
too.  I  am  scarcely  so  intimate  with  the  Highlands  as  to 
relish  or  comprehend  the  subjects  you  allude  to.  If,  in- 
deed, our  friends  in  the  other  room  were  to  make  High- 
land scenery  their  theme,  instead  of  Highland  farming, 
I  might  join." 

"Ah,  so  you  do  admire  our  wild  scenery?" 

"I  arn  enchanted  with  it.  Miss  Stewart.  My  recollec- 
tions of  the  Hi*lilands  from  a  former  short  visit  were 
agreeable,  and  I  hoped  that  an  extended  acquaintance 
with  them  would  interest  and  please  me;  but  ii  has  done 
greatly  more — it  has  far  surpassed  my  expectations." 

"I  am  delighted  to  hear  this  from  yourselt',  Mr.  Tre- 
sham; my  father  told  me  you  seemed  pleased,  when  he 
saw  yon  at  Inverallich.  I  assure  you  that  you  won  your 
way  mightily  in  his  good  traces  there;  he  has  often  men- 
tioned your  name  and  spol<en  of  the  pleasure  you  promis- 
ed us.  Little  did  I  then  think  it  was  the  brother  of  my 
dearest  friend  who  was  in  question.  I  hope  when  you 
see  more  of  this  place,  it  will  not  destroy  your  I'avoura- 
ble  opinion  of  Highland  scenery." 

"Ah.  I  don't  think  that's  possible:  I  have  seen  enough 
already  to  fix  my  opinion." 

"Nay,  Mr.  Tresham,  you  can  have  seen  but  little  yet. 
Glenvallich's  country  is  very  fine;  but  we  have  many.  O 
many  glens  and  lechs  and  rivers  that  would  delight  you 
— an  infinite  variety  of  beauty  and  interest  in  this  very 


164  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

part  of  the  country;  and  as  you  have  begun  in  such  a 
hopeful  strain  of  admiration,  I  trust  we  may  have  it  in 
our  power  at  least  to  maintain  the  high  character  of  our 
scenery  in  your  eyes,  if  not  to  increase  it.'' 

"Indeed,  Miss  Stewart,  I  am  persuaded  that  my  ad- 
miration will  increase  with  experience;  though  after  all, 
I  should  be  sorry  if  its  reputation  were  to  rest  on  the 
opinion  of  so  incompetent  a  jud^e.  Besides,  I  am  noto- 
rious for  being  easily  pleased  with  whatever  part  of  the 
world  I  may  be  in  for  the  time." 

"A  most  happy  disposition  indeed,"  said  Miss  Stewart, 
smiling,  "but  surely  you  must  have  had  your  i)referen- 
ces;  w^hat  countries  in  the  course  of  your  travels  have 
pleased  you  most?" 

"Indeed,"  said  Tresham,  smiling  also,  "I  can  hardly 
tell.  I  was  astonished  and  delighted  in  S witzerlandj  the 
sublimity  of  its  mountains — the  emerald  green  ot  its 
verdure — its  waterfalls  and  lakes,  and  sweet  romantic 
cottages,  put  me  wild.  Then  the  fairy  scenes — the  gor- 
geous cities — the  pictures  and  palaces— the  ruins  and 
antiquities — the  delicious  climate  and  brilliant  skies — the 
music  and  the  taste  of  Italy,  enchanted  me  while  I  stay- 
ed there.  Then  there  was  haughty  Spain,  and  our  an- 
cient ally,  Portugal." 

"What,  Mr.  Tresham?  talk  of  Spain  and  Portugal, 
after  Italy  and  Switzerland?  surely  the  change  must 
have  been  any  thing  rather  than  pleasing." 

"No,  I  assure  you,  not  at  all;  in  the  first  place,,  it  had 
the  charm  of  novelty,  and  before  that  wore  off,  I  really 
began  to  like  the  cbuntry.  They  are  a  fine  proud,  brave, 
lazy,  dirty  race,  these  same  Spaniards.  I  liked  them 
with  all  their  faults;  then  its  lovely  dark  eyed  women 
with  their  graceful  mantillas  and  tantalizing  veils,  so 
piquant;  and  the  country  with  its  wild  sierras  and  exten- 
sive plains — its  brown  forests,  and  its  rich  orange  groves 
and  vineyards:  and  then  the  times  were  so  exciting,  in 
spite  of  death  and  carnage,  sickness  and  privations." 

"Ah,  how  dull  and  tame  you  must  have  felt  poor 
peaceful  England  on  your  return  to  it,"  said  Miss  Stew- 
art, laughing  at  the  energy  of  her  new  acquaintance. 

"England  dull  and  tame!  far  from  it,  I  assure  you. 
Beautiful,  rich,  happy  England,  with  its  sweet  villages 
and  superb  country  seats,  and  its  hedge-rows,  and  its 
copses,  and  its  magnificent  parks  of  ancient  timber — 
come  Miss  Stewart,  you  have  been  in  England,  is  it  not 
a  rich,  smiling,  lovely  country?  not  quite  so  wild  and  ro- 
mantic and  fascinating  as  your  Highland  glens — butstill 
a  noble  country?" 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  165 

"O,  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Tresham,  none  is  more  readv' 
to  admit  the  beauties  of  England  than  I  am,  even  though 
I  do  stand  up  a  httle  for  'mine  own  romantic'  land.  But 
surely  such  a  lover  of  the  country  and  its  enjoyments 
can  never  have  had  any  enjoyment  in  a  town — London 
for  instance— after  all  your  adventures  and  campaigns, 
how  wearisome,  dull,  flat  and  unprofitable,  must  its  ele- 
gancies, and  comforts,  and  proprieties  have  appeared 
to  you!" 

"Hah,  hah,  Miss  Stewart,  you  are  laughing  at  me 
now,  I  see,'"'  said  Tresham,  laughing  himself,  "and  I 
dare  say  I  deserve  it;  but  as  for  London,  excuse  me,  I 
doat  on  it.  What  a  place!  what  a  city!  the  emporium  of 
everything  rare  and  valuable  under  the  sun!  Beauty 
and  fashion,  talent  and  science,  literature  and  amuse- 
ment, in  all  their  various  shapes;  where  are  they  to  be 
found  accumulated,  if  notinLondon'?  Look  at  St.  James's 
— look  at  Bond-street — at  the  Park — the  Opera;  where 
are  such  sights  to  be  seen  else?  Look  at  Society  in  Lon- 
don—where can  the  hke  be  found?  Wit  sparkles  there, 
genius  dazzles  and  dehghts,  and  first-rate  intellect  and 
solid  acquirements  astonish  and  instruct  us.  W'hen  once 
I  get  into  London,  I  do  not  scruple  to  say  it,  it  takes  a 
strong  wrench  to  get  me  out  of  it;  and  I  was  sad  and  sul- 
ky for  more  than  an  hour,  as  1  drove  through  its  fast-emp- 
tying streets,  although  it  was  to  see  my  mother,  I'm 
ashamed  to  say.  The  sight  of  the  green  fields  and  the 
thoughts  of  her  joy  and  kindness  set  me  up  a  little;  but  I 
don't  think  I  quite  recovered  my  spirits  till  I  got  among 
the  hills  and  mountains  with  my  friend  Glenvallich." 

"Ah,  Mr.  Tresham,  how  dull  at  that  rate  would  yoa 
feel  a  country  life  without  some  exciting  pursuit!  But 
your  spirits  ■will  serve  you  at  least  through  your  cani- 
paign  against  grouse  and  partridge;  at  all  events,  until 
the  novelty  of  a  Highland  sejoiir  wears  off,  you  wont 
feel  its  tedium." 

"The  tedium  did  you  say,  Miss  Stewart?  Nay,  this  is 
too  bad  really;  have  I  been  laying  open  my  character  so 
candidly,  and  setting  forth  thebeautiful  ))liability  and  con- 
tentedness  of  my  disposition,  alltosolittlepurpose?  Why 
I  delight  in  a  country  life,  when  I  am  in  the  country.  I  am 
enchanted  with  its  enployments  and  amusements,  and  I 
feel  as  if  I  could  scarce  like  to  live  any  where  else.  The 
recollections  of  London  are  pleasant,  and  I  doubt  rot 
that  when  occasion  calls  me  there  again,  I  shall  expe- 
rience the  same  delight  in  town  pursuits  as  formerly;  but 
assuredly  I  do  feel  completely  happy  here;  every  thing 


166  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

seems  con£renial  to  my  mind.  I  delight  in  the  wild  and 
inexhaustible  variety  of  the  scenery.  I  I'eel  my  spirit  ex- 
pand, as  it  were,  among  the  pathless  mountains  and  in- 
terminable tracks  of  rock,  and  muir.  and  waste;  and  when 
my  foot  is  on  the  hill  and  my  gun  is  in  my  hand,  free  to 
roam  at  will  and  unrestricted,  I  can  conceive  nothing 
more  exhilarating,  more  pregnant  with  enjoyment.  With- 
out doors  all  is  healthful  excitement  and  rational  recrea- 
tion; within  all  is  comfort  and  content:  what  more  is 
wanting  to  happiness — what  have  we  left  at  this  moment 
to  wish  for?  Yes;  the  Highlands  is  the  country  of  en- 
chantment—I  know  iiothiiigmore  charming." 

"Always  excepting  London,  or  Lisbon,  or  Madrid,  or 
Italy,  or  whatsoever  city  or  country  may  be  Mr.  Tre- 
sham's  residence  for  the  time,"  said  Isabelle,  laughing 
again;  "you  forget  dear  London." 

''Ah,  you  wrong  me — you  misapprehend  me  totally, 
Miss  Stewart;  how  can  you  be  so  malicious?  I  appeal 
to  yourself  now;  you  have  seen  London,  you  have  Uved 
in  it,  no  doubt:  did  you  not,  I  beg  to  ask  you.  feel  some- 
thing of  a  qualm,  a  regret,  on  first  quitting  that  fascinat- 
ing place,  even  to  return  to  your  own  Highlands,  to  such 
ditferent  scenes?" 

"To  tell  the  truth,  Mr.  Tresham,  my  experience  of 
London  was  short  and  slight  to  give  me  any  title  to 
reply  to  your  question.  Besides,  remember  1  was  re- 
turning home — to  my  father — to  the  scenes  of  my  earliest 
happin^ess — of  all  my  youthful  attachments — so  that  I 
should  be  an  interested  witness  on  the  occasion.  But 
never  shall  I  forget  the  delight  I  felt  on  awakening  the 
first  morning  at  Airdruthmore,  after  rmxiy  years'  ab- 
sence, during  which  I  had  been  cooped  up  in  a  school, 
or  a  town,  or  in  the  comparative  restraint  of  an  English 
villa.  I  heard  the  birds  singing — I  thought  that  I  could 
tell  all  my  old  friends  by  their  note.  The  fragrance  of 
the  birch  and  honeysuckle  was  the  same  I  had  inhaled 
when  a  child, — the  hum  of  the  bees  and  the  rush  of  the 
water  were  all  familiar  sounds;  even  the  Highland  ac- 
cents of  old  Grizzle,  as  she  came  to  bid  me  good-morrow, 
were  pleasant  to  me. — Aye,  you  may  laagh,  Mr.  Tre- 
Bham,  but  I  declare  even  the  smell  of  the  peat-smoke 
was  delightful  to  me." 

"O  no!  I  cannot  langh  at  that.  Miss  Stewart,  for  upon 
ray  honour  I  participate  in  the  feeling.  Still,  I  think  there 
are  some  things  you  mi^ht  miss  a  little  at  first,  even  in 
this  Arcadia.  Books,  lor  instance,  and  conversation — 
suitable  companions — intellectual  intercourse — which  I 
suspect  are  all  rare  blessings  in  these  latitudes." 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  167 

"Ah!"  replied  Miss  Stewart,  with  a  suppressed  sig-h, 
"these  are  blanks,  I  confess,  not  readily  filled  up.  Books 
may  be  h.id — but  ffood  conversation  is  less  easily  ob- 
tained. Yes,  it  had  been  my  good  ibrtune  to  enjoy  tliat 
enviable  privilege  in  no  common  degree  for  some  time 
previous  to  my  quitting  England;  and  when  I  discovered 
how  limited  my  resources  in  that  way  were  likely  to  be 
during  the  first  winter  at  Airdruthmore,  I  dare  not  say 
that  the  foul  fiend  of  ennui  did  not  sometimes  flit  in  dim 
perspective  before  my  eyes.  1  kept  him  at  the  stave's 
end,  however,  very  successfully."' 

"What,  the  winter  passed  oti'  better  than  you  antici- 
pated?'' 

''It  did,  and  the  second  better  still." 

"Well.  I  am  happy  to  hear  it,  though  I  can't  quite 
comprehend  how  it  could  be.  I  should  have  thought  it 
an  evil  likely  to  increase  rather  than  diminish.  Indeed 
I  am  somewhat  at  a  loss  to  conceive  what  young  ladies 
can  do  with  themselves  in  the  country,  particularly  in 
the  short  days  and  long  nights  of  winter:  unfortunately 
they  cannot  be  much  otTsirarods,  nor  can  they  be  always 
working  or  reading." 

"Why  truly,  to  gentlemen  who  require  violent  excite- 
ments, the  thing  may  well  be  a  mystery.  Cultivated 
society,  and  friends  ot^  one's  own  age  and  taste.s,  would 
have  been  very  desirable,  certainly;  and  I  did,  it  must  be 
owned,  pine  a  little  for  these  enjoyments:  but  the  mind 
by  proper  schooling  becomes  reconciled  to  necessary 
privations,  and  by  degrees  I  learned  to  substitute  plea- 
sures of  a  ditferent  sort  from  those  I  was  deprived  of. 
and  to  contrive  occupations  which  could  beguile  even  the 
tediousness  of  a  winter's  day.  There  are  many  claims 
on  the  attention  of  the  upper  classes,  if  they  will  listen 
to  them,  in  a  remote  place  like  this,  to  occupy  one's  time 
and  interest  one's  heart;  then,  besides  our  domestic  du- 
ties, there  are  such  things  as  music  and  drawing — these 
be.-ame  valuable  accomplishments  in  a  lone  glen." 

"Ah,  music  indeed!''  said  Tresham,  "that  is  a  re- 
source." 

•'Music;  are  you  fond  of  music,  Mr.  Tresham?"  said 
the  old  laird,  who  entering  at  this  time  with  the  rest  of 
the  company  Irom  the  dining-room,  had  come  up  to  where 
they  were  sitting,  and  had  heard  the  last  few  words.  "If 
you  are  fond  of  a  song,  Belle  there  will  be  happy,  I'm 
sure,  to  find  anv  one  who  can  understand  her  favourite 
Italianos,    Belle,  my  dear,  go  to  the  piano,  do." 

Tresham  was  an  enthusiast  in  music;  and  an  excellent 


168  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

natural  taste  had  been  improved  and  refined  by  hearing 
the  best  performers  in  the  various  countries  he  liad  vi- 
sited, as  well  as  in  the  Enerlish  metropolis.  Well  know- 
ing the  usual  proficiency  of  younff  lady  performers,  and 
anxious  to  maintain  in  his  own  breast  the  favourable  im- 
pression already  created  there  by  his  fair  hostess,  he 
remained  in  his  seat;  for  he  feared  the  possibility  of  a 
failure  which  might  weaken  or  destroy  the  effect  of  a 
voice  so  harmonious  in  conversation;  and  he  listened  in 
no  small  uneasiness  for  the  result. 

Miss  Stewart,  perhaps  in  order  to  pilch  her  voice,  and 
j^repare  it  for  greater  exertions,  commenced  her  per- 
formance with  a  simple  Scotch  air,  of  few  notes  and 
small  compass,  but  capable  of  considerable  expression. 
But  scarcely  had  she  sun£r  afevvbars.  than  his  inquietude 
began  to  abate;  and,  as  the  clear,  plaintive,  liquid  notes 
.swelled  upon  his  ear,  apprehension  gave  way  to  confi- 
dence, and  uneasiness  to  delight;  for  he  felt  that  not  only 
was  the  songstress  possessed  of  a  rich  and  powerful 
voice,  but  of  exquisite  taste,  cultivated  by  the  best  teach- 
ing. To  the  simple  melody  succeeded  a  more  compli- 
cated and  scientific  piece,  and  next  came  an  Italian  air 
from  a  fashionable  opera.  In  all  these  various  perform- 
ances there  was  not  the  smallest  affectation  or  pretence; 
the  execution  ;Df  each  was  precisely  adapted  to  the  cha- 
racter of  the  music;  nor  did  there  appear  to  be  the  least 
undue  exertion  in  producing  the  appropriate  effect:  all 
was  chaste  and  harmonious. 

Tresham  was  pleased,  delighted,  astonished ,  entranced; 
at  length,  regardless  of  his  infirmity,  he  rose  from  his 
chair,  and  making  his  way  to  the  instrument,  expressed 
his  admiration  in  a  strain  which  called  somewhat  of  a 
blush  into  the  young  lady's  cheek,  for  it  convinced  her 
that  while  the  expressions  were  perfectly  sincere,  they 
proceeded  from  one  who  was  in  every  way  quahfied  to 
judge  of  the  performance  he  commended. 

Many  and  reiterated  were  the  young  Englishmr.n'a 
entreaties  to  be  favoured  with  another,  and  yet  another 
song;  and  Isabelle,  delighted  at  having  found  a  kindred 
taste,  made  no  scruple  of  indulging  him.  Air  after  air 
was  suggested  by  the  one  and  recollected  by  the  other. 
At  length  it  was  discovered  that  Tresham  could  sing  a 
very  tolerable  second  to  many  of  Miss  Stewart's  favour- 
ite pieces  and  duets,  and  in  such  pleasant  pastime  the 
evening  wore  on  to  a  late  hour. 

But '  "pleasures  are  like  poppies  spread!" — the  sweetest 
joys  must  fade.    The  company  began  to  yawn;  the  laird 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  16^ 

rang  for  candles,  the  guests  retreated  to  their  several 
chambers,  and  Tresham  limped  awa)^,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  the  laird  and  his  servant,  to  his  own  apartment. 
For  two  fall  hours  he  lay  awake,  thinking  of  the  extra- 
ordinary and  unexpected  perfections  of  Isabelle  Stewart 
— then  sunk  to  rest  with  the  notes  of  her  last  air  ringing 
in  his  ears — dreamt  of  s;yTens  and  mermaids  with  the 
face  of  his  fair  hostess — of  Spanish  women,  whose  black 
mantles  opened  to  display  her  features — of  Highland 
glens  and  caves,  where  she  was  always  to  be  found — 
thouo-ht  she  was  still  singing  some  sweet  jingling  air  to 
lull  him  to  sleep,  apd  woke  to  hear  the  morning  bell  for 
*breakfast  ringing  in  reality. 

But  while  the  party  to  which  we  have  introduced  the 
reader  are  enjoying  the  comforts  of  repose,  we  shall 
take  the  opportunity  to  furnish  him  with  some  details 
which  will  make  him  better  acquainted  with  those  indi- 
viduals among  them,  who  are  principally  concerned  in 
the  events  we  have  undertaken  to  record. 


CHAPTER  X. 


A  HIGHLAND  LAIRD  OF  THE  OLD  SCHOOL  AND  A  MAN  OF  LAW, 

BUT  NOT  OF  EaUITY. 

Kind-hearted  lairds  in  countr}'-  nurse 

The  poor,  who  else  were  undone, 
While  lordlings  spend  their  money  worse, 
On  lust  and  pride  in  London, 

Will,  sneaks  a  scrivener,  an  exceeding  knave. 

John  Stewart,  of  Airdruthmore,  succeeded  to  his  fa- 
ther and  long  consecutive  line  of  progenitors,  in  the  es- 
tate of  whicn  he  was  at  this  time  the  proprietor,  and 
which  had  at  one  time  been  of  far  greater  extent.  Pride, 
and  a  thoughtless  uncalculating  hospitality,  had  in  this 
case,  as  in  many  others  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland, 
first  involved  the  family  in  debt,  and  had  subsequently 
forced  some  of  Mr.  Stewart's  "forebears"  to  dispose  of 
certain  portions  and  pendicles  of  their  estate,  to  some  of 
their  more  prudent  neighbours.    When,  therefore,  the 

VOL.  I.  p 


170  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

present  laird,  then  about  the  age  of  thirty,  served  heir  to 
his  father,  (as  it  is  termed  in  Scottish  law,)  he  Ibund,  or 
rather  his  man  of  business  informed  him,  that  the  ^ross 
rental  of  the  estate,  extensive  thou£:h  it  was  in  surface, 
did  not  quite  amount  to  one  thousand  pounds  a-year;  and 
that,  besides  the  public  and  other  burthens,  there  existed 
a  mortgage  on  one  part  of  the  lands,  amounting  to  five 
thousand  pounds,  leavinf^:  him,  for  actual  expenditure 
and  management,  about  six  hundred  a-ycar;  or,  if  he  de- 
sired to  see  a  gradual  diminution  of  debt,  in  prudence, 
not  more  than  from  three  to  four  hundred  pounds;  and 
to  restrict  himself  to  this  lesser  sum  was  the  urgent  ad- 
vice of  this  honest  agent. 

The  advice  was  sound,  and  well  would  it  have  been 
for  the  new  laird  of  Airdruthmore,  had  he  followed  it. 
But  it  might  seem  that  Highland  lairds  are  of  a  breed 
very  different  from  the  rest  of  their  countrymen;  for,  in- 
stead of  the  cautious  sagacity  and  habitual  prudence  as- 
cribed to  Scotchmen  in  general,  this  class  of  proprietors 
has  too  often  evinced  an  inconsiderate  recklessness  of 
disposition  in  matters  of  economy;  their  hospitality  is  too 
often  excessive  and  indiscriminate,  and  their  expenses, 
with  reference  to  their  income,  extravagant.  The  laird 
of  Airdruthmore  did  not,  unhappily,  in  these  respects, 
differ  from  his  neighbours.  Ignorant  of  business,  a  hater 
of  accounts,  and  consequently  the  sure  prey  of  a  whole 
host  of  underlings,  it  was  no  wonder  that  debt,  instead  of 
being  diminished,  should  suffer  a  rapid  increase,  and  that 
at  the  close  of  three  years,  from  the  period  of  his  succes- 
sion, he  found  himself  involved  and  embarrassed  to  an 
extent  which  his  worthy  agent  found  it  difficult  to  pro- 
vide for. 

Unfortunately  for  the  laird,  about  this  time  his  friendly 
and  honest  agent  died;  and,  still  more  unhappily,  did  he 
become  acquainted  with  a  certain  W.  S.*  in  Edinburgh, 
'yclept  Thomas  Macaskili,  the  brother  of  a  coterminous 
proprietor,  and  a  man  whose  character  in  his  profession 
was  at  least  as  notorious  for  acuteness  and  cunning,  as 
for  candour  and  integrity.  It  was  remarked  that  Macas- 
kill's  chents  uniformly  became  poor,  while  he,  in  public 
estimation  at  least,  waxed  prosperous  and  rich. 

'•'And  whose  fault's  that?"  would  the  laird  remark, 
when  this  suspicious  circumstance  was  urged,  as  a  rea-  ' 

*  These  letters  stand  for  "Writer  to  the  Signet;"  one  of  a  corpo- 
rate body  of  solicitors  privileg"ed  exclusively  to  act  as  agents  in  the 
Court  of^ Session,  &c.  in  Edinburgh. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMTGGLERa.  171 

sonable  cause  for  demurring' upon  employing  liim  as  an 
client;  "is  Tom  Macaskill  to  be  answerable  for  all  the 
fortunes  that  fools  throw  away?  is  he  to  find  them  sense 
as  well  as  money  and  law?  or  is  he  bound  to  keep  his 
clients  in  countenance,  by  biding  poor  for  their  sakes." 

Unhappily,  the  laird  did  not  prove  the  exception  to  the 
discouraging  rule  under  which  Mr.  Thomas  Macaskill's 
employers  seemed  to  lie.  At  first,  indeed,  matters  ap- 
peared to  go  on  flourishingly;  ibr  the  agent  knew  that 
there  was  upon  the  property  a  considerable  store  of  capi- 
tal oak  and  birch,  and  some  fine  old  fir-wood,  that  was 
almost  as  good  as  cash.  It  was  a  resource  as  welcome 
as  unexpected  to  Airdruthmore,  who  readily  consented 
to  avail  himself  of  it,  under  the  auspices  of  his  friend  the 
agent;  and  for  some  years  afterwards,  nothing  "was  to  be 
heard  of  bat  cutting,  and  lopping,  and  barking,  and  saw- 
mills going,  and  carting,  and  shipping;  rafts  of  timber 
^oing  down  the  Einort,  and  loads  of  bark  carried  off  to 
be  shipped.  The  manager  who  superintended  all  this 
■\vork,  was  appointed  by  the  agent,  and  he  tound  all  the 
inferior  operatives.  As  for  sales,  and  account  sales, 
these,  as  well  as  the  proceeds,  rested  all  with  the  agent 
himself,  who,  whenever  the  laird  inquired  how  matters 
were  going  on — a  question  he  seldom  put — was  always 
prepared  to  shut  his  mouth  with  some  tale  of  losses,  and 
bad  debts,  and  bankruptcies,  and  low  prices.  Neverthe- 
less Mr.  Macaskill  had  generally  tact  enough  to  sweeten 
the  pill,  by  a  small  advance,  as  he  termed  It,  of  money, 
swearing  ''by  saul  and  body!"  (his  customary  assevera- 
tion) that  it  was  more  than  he  ever  expected  to  see  for 
the  goods. 

Some  of  the  laird's  friends,  who  saw  a  little  more,  "aJi 
dessous  des  cartes,'  than  the  honest  gentlernan  himsell", 
ventured,  perhaps,  with  more  zeal  than  discretion,  to 
suggest  the  expediency,  in  common  prudence,  of  making 
some  examination  into  the  extensive  business  which  had 
for  years  being  going  on,  and  which  had  fallen  so  com- 
pletely into  the  hands  of  the  W.  S.  They  even  went  so 
iar  as  to  hint  their  suspicion  of  prices  not  being  always 
go  very  low  as  that  worthy  gentleman's  reports  would 
make  them  out  to  be;  that  good  old  timber  of  large  di- 
mensions, and  capital  oak-bark,  were  not  only  valuable, 
but  very  saleable  articles  in  the  hands  of  other  people; 
and  that  both  were,  in  fact,  very  fast  disappearing  from 
bank  and  brae,  without,  as  it  seemed,  producing  any  cor- 
responding effect  upon  the  purse  of  their  owner.  But  all 
their  well-meant  interference  was  thrown  away.    Air- 


172  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

druthmore  detested  accounts,  as  we  have  already  said, 
and  the  thought  of  encountering  so  formidable  a  concern 
was  too  alarming  to  be  endured.  Its  very  extent  increas- 
ed his  reluctance  to  grapple  with  it,  and,  void  of  all  self- 
confidence,  he  preferred  abandoning  himself  and  his  af- 
fairs to  chance,  rather  than  attempting  an  exertion  he 
believed  himself  unfit  for.  Besides,  Airdruthmore  was 
too  open  and  upright  himself  to  suspect  the  faith  of 
others,  and  in  reply  to  suchi-emonstrances  he  would  only 
shake  his  head,  and  say,  "No,  no,  Tom  Macaskill's  an 
honest  fellow,  I'm  satisfied  of  that,  and  he  knows  what 
he's  about,  which  is  maybe  more  than  I  should  do  in  his 
place.  Lord  knows  what  I  should  make  of  all  these 
things,  if  he  were  to  give  up  the  management." 

"Which  there  is  small  chance  of  his  doing,  I'll  be 
bound,  while  he  knows  he  has  such  a  gull  to  deal  with," 
muttered  one  of  the  gentlemen,  who  had  taken  in  hand 
to  speak  to  the  laird,  as  he  turned  on  his  heel,  and  re- 
solved thenceforward  to  venture  no  more  on  such  len- 
der ground. 

But  wood  and  other  resources,  of  a  limited  descrip- 
tion, at  length  began  to  run  low,  and  Tom  Macaskill 
had  recommenced  with  his  hints  of  financial  difficulties,^ 
of  want  of  ready  cash,  and  of  the  absolute  necessity  of 
retrenchment.  He  had  even  ventured  some  obscure 
hints,  regarding  new  sales  or  mortgages;  when  at  the 
very  period  when  the  prospect  was  most  threatening, 
the  clouds  which  lowered  upon  the  horizon  of  the  laird's 
affairs,  were  for  the  time  dispelled  by  an  event  which 
promised  to  him  the  most  happy  and  beneficial  conse- 
quences. 

During  the  lifetime  of  the  late  laird,  it  was  thought 
expedient  that  the  heir  apparent  of  Airdruthmore, 
should  receive  something  of  the  polish  to  be  acquired  by 
a  foreign  education,  and  for  that  purpose  he  passed 
some  years  at  an  English  school.  The  advantage  de- 
rived from  this  measure,  as  well  as  from  a  limited  tour 
on  the  Continent,  and  a  short  residence  with  some  of  his 
countrymen  in  Paris,  was  estimated  by  his  worthy  pa- 
rent in  proportion  to  the  pain  which  he  felt  at  the  ab- 
sence of  his  only  son;  although  there  were  others  ill-na- 
tured, or  honest  enough,  to  declare  that  they  saw  but 
little  difference  in  the  young  man,  and  that  Hitle  scarce- 
ly to  his  advantage;  and  who  insisted  that  if  his  foreign 
travelling  had  not  spoilt  his  frank  Highland  address, 
and  kindly  Highland  heart,  it  was  all,  and  the  best  that 
could  be  said. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  173 

Be  that  as  it  may,  the  acquaintance  he  had  formed  with 
England  was  maintained  by  him  after  his  father's  death. 
He  often  visited  and  spent  a  part  of  his  time  occasionally 
in  that  country;  and  it  was  in  the  course  of  a  journey  to 
Bath,  that  he  chanced  to  render  a  service  of  some  conse- 
quence to  a  widow  lady  and  her  two  daughters,  who  were 
likewise  travelling  the  road.  The  consequences  of  this 
adventure  were,  to  a  certain  extent,  exactly  what  might 
iiave  been  anticipated, — acquaintance,  intimacy,  esteem, 
and  friendship— but  ihey  went  somewhat  further  than  a 
sober  calculator  would  have  ventured  to  predict,  for  the 
next  step  was  love.  The  black  eyes  of  the  youngest 
Miss  Marchmont  penetrated  the  sensitive  heart  of  the 
Highland  laird,  whose  handsome,  manly,  though  not 
absolutely  juvenile  person,  together  with  his  impertur- 
bable good-humour,  good  sense,  and  generous  disposi- 
tion, failed  not  to  create  a  corresponding  impression  on 
the  fair  object  of  his  regard.  Perhaps  the  circumstance 
of^his  riper  years  was  neither  an  objection  in  the  eyes  of 
the  lady,  who  was  herself  no  longer  within  the  pale  of 
mere  j^irlhood,  nor  in  those  of  the  mother,  who  no  doubt 
was  dfsposed  to  view  him  Avith  less  suspicion,  as  it  was 
plain  that  he  was  no  young  fortune-hunter,  allured  by 
the  hopes  of  wealth,  and  trusting  to  his  own  attractions 
for  misleading  the  heart  of  a  young  and  artless  girl. 

Thus,  when  after  due  precaution,  he  did  at  length  ven- 
ture to  make  known  his  pretensions  in  form,  and  throw 
himself  and  all  his  possessions  at  the  feet  of  her  daughter, 
the  interesting  confusion  of  that  daughter  gave  no  dis- 
couragement to  his  hopes,  while  the  old  lady  assured  him 
that  should  the  inquiries,  which  as  a  mother  she  felt  it 
her  duty  to  institute  regarding  him,  through  her  man  of 
business,  be  satisfactorily  answered,  she  should  feel  no 
scruples  at  entrusting  so  amiable  and  worthy  a  man 
with  the  happiness  and  property  of  her  child. 

Little  was  the  risk  of  receiving  an  unsatisfactory  re- 
ply on  such  a  subject,  from  Tom  Macaskill,  to  whom 
the  English  solicitor  in  the  first  place  applied  for  infor- 
mation respecting  the  property  and  status  of  Mr. 
Stew^art  of  Airdruthmore,  in  his  own  country.  The 
stream  which  flov.-ing  from  Strath  Einort  and  its  tribu- 
taries, had  for  a  long  time  supplied  the  coffers  of  the  W. 
S.,  had  of  late  been  running  inconveniently  slack;  what 
then  could  be  more  opportune,  more  unlooked  for,  than 
this  sudden  prospect  of  replenishment?  A  flaming  ac- 
count was  speedily  returned  of  the  extent  and  rental  re- 
sources of  the  propertv.  As  for  the  character  of  the 
p  2 


174  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

man,  the  agent  had  only  to  refer  the  friends  of  the  ladies 
to  the  voice  of  the  whole  country,  which  would  reply,  as 
by  acclamation,  to  his  honour,  his  integrrity,  his  amiable 
qualities,  and  so  forth,  to  say  nothing  of  his  ancient  line- 
age; which  last,  however,  was  indisputably  proved  by  a 
great  genealogical  tree,  framed  in  carved  ebony,  which 
hung  over  the  chimney  in  a  parlour  at  Airdruthmore, 
the  root  of  which  was  seen  springing  from  the  abdomen 
of  the  mighty  Malcolm  Keanmore  himself. 

It  was  enough — it  was  more  than  enough — it  was 
overwhelming.  The  laird  was  formally  recogni-ied  by 
the  mother  as  her  future  son-in-law,  the  young  lady  had 
made  up  her  mind  long  before.  The  settlements  were 
duly  extended;  ten  thousand  pounds,  the  lady's  fortune,^ 
was  settled  upon  the  >;ounger  children  in  the  hands  of 
proper  trustees,  the  lite  rent  alone  to  be  at  the  disposal 
of  the  laird  or  his  lady,  as  either  might  survive,  and  to 
be  considered  in  the  light  of  a  pro\ision  for  the  educa- 
tion and  board  of  their  children;  and  a  jointure  corre- 
sponding with  the  dower  and  the  liberality  of  the  hus- 
band, rather  than  with  the  income  of  his  estate,  was 
settled  upon  the  lady — a  vain  provision  which  it  was  de- 
creed that  she  should  never  profit  by. 

In  the  meantime,  Mr.  Macaskill  did  not  neglect  his 
own  interest.  Taking  the  moment  when  the  worthy 
laird  was  entirely  absorbed  in  the  anticipation  of  his  ap- 
proaching happiness,  he  represented  to  him  the  extreme 
difficulty  he  found  in  providing  for  the  accumulating  in- 
terest of  debt,  not  to  speak  of  the  money  due  to  himself 
on  balance  of  account,  as  could  be  clearly  proved  if  he 
would  but  take  the  trouble  to  look  over  the  accounts. 
He  adverted  to  the  expediency  of  bringing  his  affairs  to 
some  sort  of  settlement  at  so  important  a  juncture;  and 
for  the  purpose  of  promoting  these  objects,  he  suggested 
the  expedient  of  making  over  in  wadset,  redeemable  in 
a  limited  number  of  years,  a  certain  portion  of  his  estate, 
an  out-of-the-way  and  somewhat  detached  pendicle,  a 
separate  glen,  to  some  one  who  should  advance  the  sum 
required  to  set  him  entirely  at  ease — there  was  a  friend 
of  his  would  advance  the  money,  and  make  the  redemp- 
tion easy — all  he  wanted  was  security  and  something 
like  decent  interest,  for  which  he  was  content  to  take 
the  rents  of  the  wadset.  Indeed,  if  he,  the  laird,  should 
desire  the  thing,  or  should  conceive  his  security  or  in- 
terest in  the  transaction  to  be  in  the  least  degree  pro- 
moted by  the  use  of  his  own  (Mr.  Macaskili's)  7iame,  he 
should  not  have  the  smallest  objection  to  have  it  inserted 
as  that  of  the  lender,  to  whom  he  would  then  be  answer- 


THE  H<GHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  175 

able  for  all  pecuniary  arrangements;  the  laird  might  thus 
feel  himself  more  in  the  hands  of  friends — it  might  re- 
move any  scruple  he  might  have  at  placing  himself  in 
the  power,  as  it  might  seem,  of  a  stranger. 

Even  the  good-natured  laird,  confiding  and  unsuspi- 
cious as  he  was,  felt  startled  at  this  proposal,  by  which, 
if  he  complied  with  it,  nearly  one-third  of  his  hereditary 
prQperty  would  be  httle  better  than  alienated.  The  he- 
sitation was,  however,  but  momentary.  Occupied  solely 
with  his  hymeneal  arrangements,  and  shrinking  with  a 
nervous  horror  from  the  idea  of  a  set  examination  of 
long-winded  accounts,  he  preferred  a  blind  acquiescence, 
to  disputing  the  statements  of  his  agent.  "Hang  it," 
said  he.  "after  all,  Tom,  Macaskill  must  know  what  he 
is  about  better  than  I  can.    He's  a  clever  fellow,  Tom. 

Aye,  and  an  honest  one,  too,  or "  a  qualm  came  over 

his  soul  at  the  doubt  which  some  latent  apprehension 
had  mischievously  conjuredup;  but  thelairdhateddoubts, 
and  could  not  endure  a  suspicion  of  the  honesty  he  so 
stoutly  upheld — far  less  could  he  bear  the  idea  of  the  in- 
vestigation which  would  be  requisite  to  lest  it.  So  he 
whistled  his  care  down  the  wind,  signed  the  papers, 
married  his  wife,  and  brought  her  in  triumph  to  the 
Highlands. 

And  good  reason  had  he  for  triumph.  Mrs.  Stewart 
was  an  admirable  woman — highly  principled,  and  amia- 
ble, as  well  as  lady-like,  and  elegant.  She  made  it  a 
point  not  only  to  regulate  her  own  tastes  and  habits  by 
those  of  her  husband,  and  to  accommodate  herself  to  her 
situation,  but  in  every  respect  to  consult  their  mutual 
interests,  and,  so  far  as  might  depend  upon  her,  to  re- 
medy rather  than  exaggerate  the  evils  likely  to  result 
from  his  weaknesses,  which  she  could  not  long  be  blind 
to.  She  was  in  truth  an  exemplary  wife.  But  coming 
as  she  did  from  the  abode  of  elegance  and  fashion,  she 
could  not  fail  of  soon  discovering,  that  the  house  which 
had  sufficiently  accommodated  an  old  Highlander  and 
his  dame,  or  a  bachelor  laird,  was  but  poorly  calculated 
for  the  comfort  of  an  English  lady,  accustomed  to  the 
comparative  luxury  of  her  own  country.  Additions  were 
speedily  made  to  the  old  tenement;  furniture  was  pro- 
cured from  Edinburgh  or  from  London;  the  roads  around 
the  place  were  improved  so  as  to  admit  of  approaching 
it  with  safety  in  a  carriage;  and  the  lady  herself  under- 
took the  laying  out  a  portion  of  the  ground  about  the 
doors. 

These  improvements  entailed  further  and  heavy  ex- 
penses.   The  agent  was  again  called  upon  for  money — 


17G  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

advanced — grumbled — almost  threatened,  but  still  ad- 
vanced, though  by  mere  driblets; — a  system,  which  must 
soon  have  come  to  a  stand  still,  but  for  a  remarkable  re- 
volution which  about  this  time  began  to  take  place  in 
the  value  of  Highland  property,  and  which  threw  an- 
other, though  but  temporary  gleam  of  prosperity  over 
the  prospects  of  the  Airdruthmore  family. 

For  many  j^ears  previous  to  the  change  of  w^hich  we 
speak,  the  chief  produce  of  Highland  estates  was  black 
cattle,  which  being  bred  in  the  mountainous  districts  of 
the  North,  were  purchased  by  dealers  who  came  for 
that  purpose  to  the  annual  fairs,  and  who  drove  them 
southward  for  the  supply  of  the  English  market.  But 
in  process  of  time  it  came  to  be  discovered  that  sheep 
were  a  stockWhich  would  thrive  as  well  in  the  Northern 
hills  and  valleys,  as  in  the  richer  pastures  of  the  more 
Southern  counties,  and  which  would  yield  far  greater 
returns  to  the  farmer  as  well  as  the  proprietor,  than  the 
cattle  in  wiiich  they  had  hitherto  dealt. 

The  small  black-faced,  which  succeeded  the  still  more 
ancient  white-faced  breeds  of  Highland  sheep,  were  not^ 
nearly  so  valuable  either  in  wool  or  carcass,  as  those  of 
the  Cheviot  hills;  but  crossed  by  the  larger  and  finer 
southern  breeds,  they  became  improved  in  size,  and 
fleece,  and  were  then  found  to  yield  an  infinitely  more 
profitable  return.  By  degrees  the  stream  of  southern 
skill,  wealth,  and  industry,  assumed  a  northward  course; 
many  sheep  farmers  of  capital  and  experience  took  farms 
in  the  Highland  counties,  at  rents  which  were  never 
heard  of  nor  dreamt  of  before,  stocked  them  with  supe- 
rior animals,  and  proved  by  success,  that  the  value  of 
Highland  estates  had  hitherto  been  greatly  underrated. 
So  great  was  in  some  instances  the  rise  and  value  occa- 
sioned by  this  change  of  system,  that  there  are  instances 
on  record,  of  farms,  originally  under  black  cattle,  bring- 
ing six,  eight,  and  even  ten  times  their  former  rent  when 
let  as  sheep  walks.* 

The  Airdruthmore  estate,  among  others,  felt  this  fa- 
vourable change,  although  the  eftect  upon  it  was  greatly 
less  considerable  than  might  have  been  the  case  had  it 
been  judiciously  and  honestly  managed.  The  farms, 
which  remained  unaffected  by  the  wadset,  were  let  under 

♦  Instances  could  be  adduced  of  Highland  properties,  which 
fifty  years  ago  were  worth  but  500^  a  year,  and  which  have  since 
the  eliange  arisen  to  a  rental  of  T.COOZ.  A  re-action  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent has  taken  place  since  var  prices  have  ceased,  but  the  perma- 
nent rise  is  still  enormous. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  1T7 

the  all-powerful  influence  of  the  agent,  Mr.  Tom  Macas- 
kill,  who,  as  some  did  not  scruple  to  insinuate,  with  mo- 
lives  by  no  means  disinterested,  let  them  upon  long  leafiee 
to  persons  who  paid  scarce  half  their  value  of  rent  for 
them.  There  were  various  and  abundant  excuses  for 
this  unlucky  singularity,  whenever  it  was  remarked; — 
poor  hill  a^cneralTy ,  all  over  the  farm — too  much  loch  and 
rock  upon  it,  and  little  good  grass  on  any  part  of  it — in- 
different wintering  for  hogs"^ — unwholesome  spots  in  the 
best  pasturage,  &.c.  &c.  &.C.;  so  that  on  the  whole,  in- 
stead of  arise  of  full  three  thousand  a  year,  as  some  as- 
serted there  should  have  been,  the  laird  was  glad  to  find 
the  rental  of  the  land  which  still  remained  in  his  posses- 
sion, increased  to  fifteen  hundred  pounds  a  year. 

It  is  true,  that  some  debt  had  accumulated— the  laird 
did  not  suppose  it  could  be  much — for  a  vague  idea  w'as 
all  he  had  about  the  matter;  but  then,  he  hved  in  peace 
and  plenty,  and  was  a  happy  husband,  and  the  father  of 
a  son  and  a  daughter,  born  at  an  interval  of  five  years. 
AlasI  the  season  of  affliction  was  fast  approaching — yea, 
it  had  already  arrived.  Ei^ht  years  after  his  marriage, 
his  wife,  when  near  the  period  of  her  third  confinement, 
— by  one  of  those  painful  casualties  which  seem  like  the 
random  shots  of  fate — although  each  arrow  flies  as  sure- 
ly to  its  destined  mark,  as  those  which  are  more  palpably 
launched  by  the  decree  of  Providence — in  the  course  of 
her  domestic  duties  fell  and  injured  herself  so  severely, 
that  she  was  carried  insensible  to  bed.  A  premature  labour 
was  the  consequence.  In  those  days  medical  assistance 
was  ill  to  be  had  in  the  Highlands,  and  often  indifferent 
when  obtained.  The  '*  wise  woman,"  who  lived  at  a  toon 
some  three  miles  distant,  made  her  appearance  as  last  a? 
horse  and  pillion  could  carry  her  to  the  place.  But  her 
skill  was  as  vain  as  the  prayers  and  the  tears  of  those 
around  the  bed  of  sorrow;  and  after  two  days  of  intense 
suffering,  the  laird  became  the  father  of  a  female  infant, 
and  a  widower,  nearly  at  the  same  moment. 

The  heart  of  Airdruthmore  was  as  warm  and  affec- 
tionate, as  his  mind  was  open  and  honourable.  The 
paroxysm  of  anguish  with  which  he  clasped  to  his  breast 
the  cold  remains  of  her  who  had  been  in  truth  his  best 
beloved,  the  sweetner  of  his  life — the  partner  of  his  jove 
and  his  sorrows,  was  formidable,  and  powerful  as  the 
frame  vyhich,  for  a  time,  it  prostrated;  and  not  one  of  the 
domestics  dared  to  approach  him,  until  his  widowed  sis- 
ter, who  had  accepted  an  asylum  in  his  house,  brought 
the  new  born  infant,  and  with  the  tears  and  the  accents 

*  Hogs,  year-old  lambs. 


178  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

of  deep  grief,  besought  her  brother  to  summon  up  his 
resolution,  and  exert  himself  for  the  sake  of  the  babe 
Avhich  his  dear  wife  had  left  him.  The  gesture  with 
"which  at  first  he  repelled  this  well-meant  appeal,  was  stern 
and  appalling — but  it  was  a  mood  uncongenial  to  his 
mind,  and  could  not  last.  The  tears  of  the  miserable 
widower  fell  upon  the  face  of  his  child.  "Well,  well,"^ 
lie  said,  in  broken  words — "take  it  away — take  care  of 
the  poor  thing.  I'll  do  my  duty;  but  leave  me — let  me 
alone,  e'en  now,  I  cannot  leave  her  yet.  O  God!  she'll 
no'  be  long  with  me,  even  thus!''  Another  iearful  burst 
of  grief  convulsed  his  frame,  and  he  once  more  fell  upon 
the  body. 

The  bewildered  attendants,  in  their  perplexity,  did 
just  the  best  thing  they  could  have  done— they  left  him 
to  himself; — the  first  heavy  gust  of  passion  exhausted  it- 
self, and  in  two  hours  the  forlorn  widower  left  the  cham- 
ber of  death,  and  gave  place  to  those  whose  duty  it  was 
to  repair  thither.  Long  and  heavily  did  he  feel  this  blow; 
and  though  his  constitutional  equanimity  of  temper  and 
naturally  excellent  spirits  assisted  him  greatly  in  at 
length  recovering  from  its  effects,  he  never  showed  the 
smallest  disposition  to  form  a  second  union.  Mrs.  Mac- 
donald,  his  widowed  sister,  who  was  w^ith  him  at  the 
death  of  his  wife,  from  that  time  forward  took  up  her 
abode  at  Airdruthmore,  and  superintended  the  domestic 
establishment. 

A  little  alter  the  sad  event  we  have  recorded,  the  laird 
received  a  very  afi'ectionate  letter  of  condolence  Irom 
Mrs.  Ponsonby,  the  sister  of  his  deceased  wife,  who  had 
married  an  English  gentleman  of  fortune  shortly  after 
his  own  marriage.  In  this  letter,  aj'ter  expressing  her 
sincere  grief  for  their  mutual  loss,  Mrs.  Ponsonby  en- 
treated that  she  might  be  permitted  to  stand  godmother 
to  the  infant,  whom  she  should,  if  her  brother-in-law 
would  consent,  hold  herself  bound  to  look  upon,  and  edu- 
cute  as  a  real  daughter;  assuring  him,  that  the  perform- 
ance of  such  a  duty  would  be  a  real  consolation  to  her 
for  the  loss  of  a  beloved  sister.  A  suitable  reply  was  re- 
turned to  this  affectionate  and  friendly  proposal;  but  the 
laird,  who  had  by  that  time  taken  greatly  to  the  infant, 
could  not  bring  himself  to  part  with  it  then.  Her  native 
air,  he  said,  would  best  confirm  her  constitution,  and  he 
did  not  wish  that  his  daughter  should  be  brought  up  in 
ignorance  of  her  home  and  of  her  parent:  but  when  the 
eeason  fbr  regular  instruction  should  arrive,  he  should 
then  with  gratitude  avail  himself  of  his  sister-in-law's 
kindnessj  and  jntrupt  his  little  Isabelle  to  her  care. 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  179 

Time  pafssed  on,  and  further  afflictions  awaited  the 
laird  of  Airdruthmore.  His  eldest  daughter,  a  fine  young 
creature  seven  years  of  age,  Avas  attacked  by  the  natu- 
ral small-pox,  which  at  that  time,  previous  to  the  gene- 
ral introduction  of  vaccination,  was  the  scourge  of  the 
Highlands:  an  unfortunate  cold,  caught  when  she  had 
already  been  pronounced  out  of  danger,  threw  her  into  a 
decline,  and  after  languishing  for  some  months,  she  was 
laid  in  the  grave  by  her  unhappy  father,  whose  scarcely 
healed  wounds  were  thus  again  torn  open. 

The  little  Isabelle  was  niore  Ibrtunate:  she  took  the 
distemper,  but  in  so  mild  a  manner  as  scarcely  to  be  con- 
fined by  its  effects;  and  alter  a  week's  slight  indisposition.^ 
escaped  without  mark  or  trace  of  that  fell  destroyer  of 
beauty.  After  the  loss  of  her  sister,  the  little  creature 
became  doubly  dear  to  its  father,  and  it  was  only  in  con- 
sequence of  the  earnest  remonstrances  of  his  sister,  a 
sensible  woman,  and  of  the  rej)resentations  of  some  other 
judicious  friends,  that  when  she  had  attained  the  age  of 
eleven  years,  he  was  at  length  prevailed  on  to  comply 
with  the  repeated  and  urgent  entreaty  of  his  sister-in- 
law,  and  permit  his  daughter  to  receive  the  benefit  ot"  a 
more  liberal  education  than  the  glens  or  the  towns  of  the 
Highlands  could  at  that  time  supply. 

A  visit  from  Mrs.  Ponsonby  herself,  accompanied  by 
her  husband  and  one  of  their  daughters,  a  very  amiable 
and  accomplished  girl  of  sixteen,  was  probably  the  cir- 
cumstance which  overcame  his  lingering  reluctance, 
and  decided  his  mind  on  this  interesting  subject.  Air- 
druthmore, with  all  his  simplicity,  had  enough  of  tact 
and  good  sense  to  discover  at  a  glance  the  im.measurable 
distance  which  existed  between  the  elegant  English  girl, 
well-bred  and  accomplished — gentle,  modest,  and  retir- 
ing, yet  neither  abashed  nor  confused  in  company, — and 
the  coarse,  awkward,  gawky  or  hoydenish  lasses,  ill 
taught  and  worse  bred,  who  occasionally  accompanied 
their  mothers  on  a  forenoon  visit,  or  the  more  trying  or- 
deal of  a  formal  company  dinner  at  Airdruthmore. 

"No — my  Isabelle  must  ■??o/' be  like  these.  Take  her, 
ray  dear  sister;  it  would  be  selfish  and  wicked  in  me  to 
prefer  my  own  gratification  to  her  good.  Take  her.  and 
make  her  such  as  your  own  sweet  Lucy, — But,  O!  it's  ill 
we'll  do  without  her,  dear  child !-;-What  will  I  do  when  I 
miss  her  biythe  little  voice  sinking  in  the  morning  like 
any  skylark,  and  the  patter  of  her  light  feet  along  the 
passage,  to  call  papa  from  his  room; — and  when  I'll  not 
see  her  bonny  face  and  sweet  dark  een,  so  like  her  bless- 
ed mother's,  dancing  up  to  kiss  me  when  I  come  in  to  my 


180  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLER3. 

breakfast!  They'll  be  dull  days  in  Airdruthmore  till 
she'll  come  back — but  this  is  all  very  wrongs  in  me,  my 
dear  sister;  so  I  pray  you  forgive  me,  and  take  Isabelle 
along-  with  you." 

And  Isabelle  did  go,  and  shared  the  heart  and  the  ma- 
ternal care  of  Mrs.  Ponsonby  with  her  own  daughters. 
The  same  masters  taught  the  girls;  the  same  governess 
watched  over  them;  and  the  same  valuable  results  fol- 
lowed these  judicious  exertions:  for  Isabelle  kept  pace 
with  her  graceful  and  accomplished  cousins,  and  Mrs. 
Ponsonby  had  the  delight  of  restoring  to  her  brother-in- 
law  his  daughter,  who  from  a  happy  joyous  child,  with 
radiant  eyes^and  sunny  smile,  had  grov/n  up  into  a  lovely 
and  elegant  young  woman. 

The  affairs  of  the  laird,  meanwhile,  under  the  manage- 
ment of  his  friend  Tom  Macaskill,  proceeded  in  just  such 
a  course  as  the  reader,  from  what  he  has  seen  of  that 
gentleman's  integrity,  might  naturally  anticipate.  The 
debt  already  incurred  experienced  an  annual  increase, 
until  it  assumed  a  size  so  formidable  as  utterly  to  con- 
found the  worthy  man.  He  therefore  took  the  part  of 
closing  his  eyes,  ears,  and  understanding,  entirely  to  the 
disagreeable  subject,  resolving  to  leave  every  thing  to 
his  friend  Tom,  with  some  indefinite  idea  that  the  said 
Tom  would  find  some  royal  method  of  arranging  mat- 
ters, and  providing  for  every  possible  difficulty  and  con- 
tingency, as  had  hitherto  been  done;  and  in  this  supposi- 
tion the  laird  was  nearer  the  truth  than  he  had  any  good 
grounds  for  imagining,  or  than  the  reader  can  have  the 
means  of  comprehending,  until  we  let  him  into  the  se- 
cret. The  fact  was,  that  the  worthy  W.  S.,  w^ho  had 
made  the  laird  his  milch-cow  for  so  long,  and  who,  when 
he  had  sucked  him  dry,  would  not  have  scrupled  to  let 
the  worthless  carcass  shift  for  itself,  had  his  own  private 
reasons  for  bolstering  up  his  credit  and  his  estate  a  little 
longer.     This  must  be  explained. 

A  little  previous  to  the  period  at  which  our  retrospect 
of  the  laird's  history  has  arrived,  a  new  character  of 
some  importance  to  the  drama,  had  made  his  appearance 
upon  the  stage.  This  was  no  other  than  Mr.  Roderick 
Macaskill,  son  and  heir  of  the  old  idiot  of  Bally tully. 
and  nephew  to  the  W.  S.  who  exercised  so  important 
an  influence  over  the  Airdruthmore  concerns.  Mr. 
Macaskill,  of  Ballytully,  was  a  Highlander  of  the  old 
school ,  but  by  no  means  of  its  best  class.  His  hospitality, 
when  he  was  hospitable;  was  indiscriminate,  injudicious, 
and  extravagant.  The  popularity  he  aimed  at  was 
with  the  lowest  orders,  among  whom,  as  cock  of  the 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  181 

roost,  he  was  infinitely  more  at  home  than  amon^  his 
equals  in  rank  and  fortune,  and  with  whom  he  was  ever 
ready  to  join  in  riot  and  low  debauchery.  Deeply  pre- 
judiced and  narrow-minded,  he  scouted  all  improvement 
either  of  intellect  or  ])roperty;  and  the  house  of  Bally- 
tully,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  his  estate,  exhibited  a  true 
picture  of  its  landlord's  mind.  It  was  ruinous,  squalid, 
disgusting-,  comfortless.  As  to  the  property  of  Bally- 
tully,  it  became  involved,  no  one  knew  how,  and  least  of 
all  the  laird;  for  there  was  no  discovering-  how  his 
money  went.  He  had  neitlier  state  nor  finery  of  any 
sort,  neither  comtbrt  at  home  nor  respect  abroad,  to 
show  for  it;  but  go  it  did,  taster  and  faster,  until  his  dif- 
ficulties increased  so  much  that  he  took  the  alarm  in 
good  earnest,  and  from  a  reckless  spendthrift  he  all  at 
once  became  niggardly  miser,  who  withdrew  from  every 
sort  of  communication  with  his  neighbours  and  former 
associates.  Perhaps  the  reader  may  incline  to  the  opi- 
nion of  certain  shrewd  neighbours,  who  conceived  the  fact 
of  his  brother,  the  worthy  Tom  Macaskill,  being  his 
doer,  or  agent,  was  quite  sufficient  to  account  for  the 
embarrassnient  of  his  affairs.  Still,  when  he  did  take  the 
prudent  part,  and  seemed  to  be  saving  with  might  and 
main  for  several  years  before  his  death,  it  was  generally 
beheved  that  his  pecuniary  difficulties  must  have  in  a  great 
measure  been  relieved,  and  his  estate  disburthened. 

It  was  not  under  the  directions  or  example  of  such  a 
father  and  such  an  uncle,  that  a  youth,  at  best  of  question- 
able dispositions,  was  likely  to  improve.  Roderick  Macas- 
kill, neglected  in  his  childhood,  and  sufl'ered  in  his  youth  to 
run  riot  with  the  low  and  dissolute  frequenters  of  his  fa- 
ther's house,  grew  up  not  much  in  the  fear  of  either  God 
or  man.  He  could  play  at  s/jz'??^?/,  or  football,  catch  a  trout, 
spear  a  salmon,  shoot  a  muir-fowl,  swear  and  curse  in  Gae- 
lic, and  toss  off  a  glass  of  whisky,  with  any  lad  or  loon  in 
the  place;  but  as  for  the  adventitious  accomplishments  of 
reading  and  writing,  not  to  speak  of  the  more  recondite 
branches  of  literature,  which  some  parents  deem  it  fit 
their  children  should  be  made  acquainted  with.  Rory 
Macaskill  had  but  little  turn  for,  or  knowledge  of  them; 
and  had  it  not  been  for  his  uncle  Tom,  he  mighthave  lived, 
flourished,  and  gone  down  to  the  grave  of  iiis  fathers,  in 
the  most  blessed  ignorance  of  all  mental  improv-ement; 
almost  without  the  simple,  though  useful,  gratification  of 
signing  his  own  name.  But  uncle  Tom,  not  being  him- 
self a  marrying  man,  was  probably  of  opinion  that  the 
heir  apparent  of  all  the  Macaskills  might  as  well  be  in- 

voL.  I.       a 


182  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

etructed  in  the  mysteries  of  speaking:,  reading,  and  writ- 
ing his  vernacular  languEige  with  sufficient  accuracy  to 
pass  muster  among  the  class  of  Highland  lairds,  with 
whom  it  would  be,  probably,  his  fate  to  associate.  Per- 
chance, in  the  shrewd  cunning  of  the  lad,  he  perceived 
something  congenial;  something  indicative  of  future  ex- 
altation and  worldly  prosperity,  which  he  conceived 
might  be  made  available  to  his  own  special  advantage 
and  comfort.  For  the  W.  S.,  hke  many  another  hard- 
fagging  man,  looked  forward  to  days  of  ease  and  enjoy- 
ment, when  the  weighty  concerns  which  he  had  so 
long  sustained  might  Se  devolved,  in  part  at  least,  upon 
the  shoulders  of  some  worthy  coadjutor.  If  these  ex- 
pectations regarded  his  nephew,  he  miscalculated  for 
once;  for  though  the  hopeful  youth,  under  suitable  in- 
struction, and  through  means  of  a  ready  enough  wit, 
did  contriv^e  to  pick  up,  along  with  some  useful  learn- 
ing, no  triflinsr  portion  of  the  crooked  policy  which  the 
experienced  W.  S.  endeavoured  to  instil  into  his  mind, 
he  betrayed  an  utter  want  of  that  patient,  steady  per- 
severance, that  humble  and  pliant  spirit  of  endurance, 
which  are  so  essential  in  the  pursuit  of  wealth,  especial- 
ly when  aimed  at  by  such  means  as  the  worthy  agent 
was  accustomed  to  make  use  of 

After  a  vain  attempt  to  make  his  nephew  of  service 
in  his  own  way,  Mr.  Thomas  Macaskill  submitted,  how- 
ever ungraciously,  to  the  desire  of  the  youns:  man  him- 
self, supported  by  his  father's  wish,  that  he  sliould  enter 
a  fencible  regiment  where  his  family  interest  might  se- 
cure him  promotion.  Accordingly,  upon  furnishing  a 
certain  number  of  men,  as  was  then  the  jiractice,  Mr. 
Roderick  Macaskill  received  a  commission  in  the  Gor- 
don fencibles,  with  which  corps  he  did  duty  for  some 
years  at  Gibraltar  and  in  Ireland.  It  was  whispered, 
however,  that  the  lieutenant  was  neither  a  favourite 
with  his  commanding  officer,  nor  with  the  mess.  Whether 
it  was  from  this  or  some  other  cause  is  uncertain,  but 
the  fact  was,  that  when  the  regiment  was  ordered  to 
the  Holder,  he  quitted  it  and  retired  upon  half-pay  to 
Scotland.  His  father  having^  by  this  time  become  a 
morose  recluse,  but  little  comfort  vras  to  be  found  in  his 
home  at  Ballytully,  while  on  the  other  hand,  the  habits 
of  his  uncle  in  Edinburgh  were  by  no  means  so  conge- 
nial to  his  own,  as  to  induce  the  gay  lieutenant  to  re- 
main with  him  oftener  or  longer  than  prudence  or  de- 
corum mightrequire.  Lieutenant  Macaskill,  neverthe- 
less, was  not  without  his  private  pursuits  and  compa- 
\       nions.     The   latter   principally  consisted  of  a  set  of 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  183 

dissolute  rakes,  bucks,  bloods,  and  bullies  of  desperate 
fortunes — birds  of  prey,  who  gained  a  precarious  exist- 
ence by  plucking  all  the  unlucky  pigeons  whom  chance 
throw  in  their  way.  His  pursuits  were  worthy  of  such 
society; — drinking,  gambling,  and  debauchery  of  every 
species.  In  these  did  the  yo~ung  man  spend  his  time,  his 
health,  his  own  money,  and  every  shilling  he  could 
squeeze  out  of  his  mist;rl^'  father,  or  coax  out  of  his  po- 
litic uncle,  who  in  spite  of  his  disappointment,  entertain- 
ed for  him  a  regard  scarcely  to  be  accounted  for  in  a  maa 
of  such  selfish  feelinsrs  and  habits. 

There  were  few  oT  Mr.  Thomas  Macaskill's  actions, 
as  we  have  hinted  before,  which  might  not  be  traced  to 
a  selfish  motive.  He  loved  his  nephew,  it  is  true,  but  so 
far  was  this  affection  from  binding  him  to  his  own  pecu- 
liar interests,  that  his  brain  was  ousy  with  a  scheme  of 
turning  this  very  afiection  to  his  own  benefit.  It  is  a  trite 
observation,  that  worldly  and  cautious  men  often  become 
victims  of  the  very  errors  which  they  have  condemned 
in  others;  and  the  avoidance  of  which  has  for  a  long 
time  been  the  cause  of  their  prosperity.  The  patient 
and  wily  cunning,  the  persevering  industry  and  insuper- 
able prudence  of  Macaskill  had  been  the  instruments, 
however  unworthily  applied,  by  which  he  had  in  the 
course  of  many  years  secured  a  very  considerable  for- 
tune— some  said  a  large  one.  But  that  the  thirst  of  gain 
increases  by  gratification  is  a  fact  to  which  every  age 
and  nation  has  borne  testimony;  and  our  W.  S.  with  all 
his  prudence,  was  by  no  means  doomed  to  form  any  ex- 
ception to  the  rule. 

In  the  course  of  his  business,  tempting  bargains  fre- 
quently cast  up,  and,  forgetting  the  mere  agent,  Macas- 
kill saw  no  good  reason  why  he  should  not  make  himsel 
principal  on  such  occasions,  and  reap  the  profit  as  wel 
as  another.    A  recurrence  of  transactions  savouring  of 
the  merchant  rather  than  the  writer,  involved  him  al- 
most insensibly  in  extensive  speculations  in  produce  o 
various  kinds.     Wood,  bark,  kelp,  corn,  wool,  and  even 
live  stock  occasionally.  By  degrees  his  concerns  became 
complicated — opposing  interests  embarrassed  him.  Some 
of  his  speculations  failed;  of  his  bargains  some  turned 
out  dead  losses;  others,  which  with  due  attention  might 
have  turned  out  well,  became  unprofitable  from  unavoid- 
able neglect. 

The  consequences  of  these  miscarriages  which  could 
not  always  be  concealed,  were  more  serious  even  than 
the  losses  themselves.  Men  of  business,  in  their  cautious 
way,  hinted  obscurely  at  the  sums  which  had  been  thus 


184  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

imprudently  thrown  away.  Bills  with  his  name  to  a  large 
amount  were  understood  to  be  afloat,  and  the  banks  be- 
ean  to  look  shy  upon  them,  as  well  as  upon  the  W.  S. 
himself.  Tradesmen  with  long  unpaid  accounts  became 
anxious  for  a  settlement,  and  a  multitude  of  those  minor 
symptoms  of  labourin^^  circumstances — "straws  that 
show  which  way  the  wind  sets" — were  remarked  by 
those  Avho  watch  the  general  course  of  business  in  the 
metropolis  of  Scotland. 

Still  Mr.  Macaskill  was  known  to  have  large  posses- 
sions. The  amount  of  wadsetts,  mortgages^  and  pur- 
chases of  land,  registered  in  his  own  name  was  very 
great,  and  people  believed  that  whatever  his  temporary 
embarrassments  might  be,  he  must  cut  up  well  in  the 
end.  However  that  might  be,  the  object  of  their  specu- 
lations appeared  to  have  resolved  on  fortifying  his  credit 
by  every  means  in  his  power,  and  on  providing  against 
any  storm  that  might  blow. 

The  estate  of  Bally  tully  was  probably  more  absolutely 
in  his  hands  than  in  those  of  the  old  and  miserly  laird  his 
brother.  The  lands  were  contiguous  to  those  of  his 
friend  and  client,  the  laird  of  Airdruthmore — a  noble  pro- 
perty they  would  make  together.  Young  Stewart  had 
embraced  a  hazardous  profession:  a  casualty — the  lapse 
of  a  single  life,  would  throw  the  whole  into  the  lap  of 
Miss  Isabelle — and  then  his  own  wadsett — whew! — it 
would  be  a  glorious  estate.  At  all  events,  the  ^-irl  had. 
ten  thousand^  pounds.  "And  bi  my  saul  and  body,''  would 
the  good  W.  S.,  warming  with  the  subject,  break  out  to 
himself,  in  his  secret  chambers,  "that's  no  bad  plaister 
to  salv;e  a  consumptive  estate  wi'.  That  fellow  Rode- 
rick might  hae  it,  I'm  sure,  for  the  seeking;  and  have  it 
he  shall,  or  my  name's  no  Tom  Macaskill!  'Odd,  it  may 
patch  me  up  myseP  yet.  There's  that  purchase  o'  the 
Kirk  Sonachan  property,  that  I  was  harled  into  by  that 
stupit  ideot  Mac  Kechny— De'il  hae  me,  but  it  smells 
more  o'  a'  knave's  plisky  than  a  fule's  blunder;  but  I'll 
be  upsides  wi'  him  yet.  Then  there's  that  d— d  kelp  af- 
fair in  Skye  and  Uist;  and  Strathspey  wood  they  say 
will  be  doon.  Bi  saul  and  body,  I  may  need  the  hale  o't 
yet.  Aye!  aye!  Rory  must  get  the  lass,  and  let  me  alone 
to  get  the  siller!" 

Thus  mused,  and  thus  resolved  the  worthy  Tom  Ma- 
caskill, into  whose  private  thoughts  we  have  thus  given 
a  closer  peep,  perhaps,  than  strict  prudence  might  war- 
rant; but  trusting  to  the  discretion  of  our  readers,  we 
shall  proceed  with  our  story. 

In  conformity  with  this  deep-laid  plan,  Lieutenant  Ma- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  185 

caskill,  with  due  introductions  and  a  suitable  panegyric, 
was  formally  introduced  by  his  uncle  at  Airdruthmore. 
The  worthy  old  laird  was  not  less  astonished  than  de- 
lighted to  find  the  son  of  his  churhsh  neighbour,  the  rude 
cub  whom  he  remembered  little  better  than  a  coarse, 
ungainly  blackguard,  metamorphosed  into  a  gay  young 
man,  with  a  military  air,  and  a  dash  of  modest  assurance 
— the  only  tokens  of  his  late  profession,  besides  his  half- 
pay,  by  the  way,  which  the  lieutenant  retained.  This  air 
of  assumption  the  honest  laird  was  willing  to  ascribe  to 
the  ease  of  a  man  who  knew  the  world;  and  as  he  read 
the  praises  of  the  nephew  in  the  letters  of  the  uncle,  his 
good  sense  was  for  a  moment  startled,  and  he  almost 
marvelled  at  the  change.  But,  thought  he,  with  Burns — 

"Afttimes  a  ragged  cowt's  been  known 
To  make  a  noble  aiver." 

"The  deuce  is  in  it,  if  Tom  does  not  know  his  own  ne- 
phew— and  he's  too  discreet  to  recommend  an  arrogant 
coxcomb  to  the  attention  of  a  sober  decent  family  like 
mine,  surely." 

The  simplicity  of  the  laird  of  Airdruthmore,  like  that 
of  "My  uncle  Toby,"  had  nothing  in  it  of  weakness  or  of 
folly.  It  sprung  from  genuine  goodness  of  heart,  and  a 
confidence  in  the  sincerity  of  others,  grounded  upon  his 
own  integrity  of  purpose.  It  was  doubtless  increased  by 
a  disuetude  from  the  world  and  its  ways,  and  by  an  indo- 
lence of  temperament  which  revolted  from  the  trouble  of 
scrutiny,  and  disposed  him  to  rely  upon  the  assurances 
of  others  without  sufficient  inquiry  into  their  motives. 

The  lieutenant,  well  primed  by  his  uncle,  was  pre- 
pared to  meet  his  man,  and  the  art  with  which  he  con- 
cealed his  evil  propensities,  and  brought  forward  into 
view  the  specious  points  of  his  character,  would  have 
ehcited  praise  from  that  relative  himself.  The  old  gen- 
tleman was  charmed, — the  more  so  probably  that  he  had 
been  so  pleasantly  disappointed  in  the  character  of  his 
guest,  and  young  "Ballytully  became  a  frequent  and  wel- 
come inmate  at  Airdruthmore. 

But  the  dissolute  habits  in  which  Lieutenant  Macas- 
kill  delighted,  though  concealed,  were  far  from  being 
abandoned.  The  vicinity  of  his  lather's  house  afforded 
ample  means  of  gratification, — of  a  low  and  degrading 
character  indeed, — but  the  lieutenant  had  parental  ex- 
ample to  plead  for  laxity  of  taste  as  well  as  of  principle, 
and  he  soon  became  the  leader  and  boon  companion  of  a 
set  of  reprobates,  outcasts  from  reputable  society,  or 
men  who  had  never  found  entrance  into  it.  Drovers 
a  2 


s 

If^a  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

and  cattle-merchants  of  desperate  fortunes,  excisemen 
and  smugglers,  broken  or  breaking:  farmers,  and  profli- 
gates of  all  descriptions,  flocked  to  the  change-houses  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Ballytully,  to  taste  ot  the  young 
laird's  hospitality,  and  to  contribute  their  share  of  ser- 
vile flattery  in  return.  It  was  even  whispered  by  some 
that  a  still  more  dangerous  and  criminal  connexion  ex- 
isted between  him  and  certain  individuals  of  the  crew, 
but  the  very  persons  who  dared  to  breathe  so  scanda- 
lous a  report  disclaimed  all  belief  in  it.  The  sphere  in 
which  it  was  circulated  was  too  remote  to  give  it  publi- 
city in  creditable  society,  and  neither  the  report  itself 
nor  any  part  of  the  secret  history  ofthe  young  laird  ever 
reached  the  family  at  Airdruthmore,  whose  very  habits 
prevented  them  Irom  being  assailed  w^ith  such  gossip. 

In  course  of  time,  the  old  laird  of  Ballytully  died,  and 
his  vrorthy  son  succeeded  to  his  property,— whatever 
that  might  amount  to,— for  the  whole  nature  ofthe  suc- 
cession^vas  preserved  a  solemn  secret  in  the  bosoms  of 
the  uncle  and  the  nephew  themseU^es.  The  house  of 
Ballytully  was,  however  repaired,  the  positive  nuisan- 
ces removed  from  about  the  doors,  and  some  little  atten- 
tion was  bestowed  upon  the  bit  of  rough  pasture  about 
them.  The  cows,  calves,  and  poultry  excluded  by  a 
rough  paling  from  their  ancient  haunt  under  the  w^in- 
dows,  and  a  new  road  cut  and  roughly  gravelled  wound 
its  way  up  to  the  entrance  and  round  a  circle  which  in 
time  was  intended  to  be  converted  into  green  turf. 
There  was,  however,  a  lazy  indolence  in  the  progress 
of  these  attempts  at  improvement,  an  imperfection  in 
the  execution,  a  stopping  short  in  the  middle,  which  ar- 
gued little  in  favour  ofthe  spirit  by  which  they  were 
conducted. 

In  truth,  the  new  laird  was  seldom  at  home,  and  when 
he  was,  his  companions  and  intimates,  it  was  said,  were 
not  such  as  to  add  to  its  respectability.  The  greater 
portion  of  his  time  was  spent  at  Airdruthmore,  where 
he  had  contrived  to  ingratiate  himself  so  much  with  the 
laird  as  to  be  always  a  welcome  guest.  There  is  a  spe- 
cies of  regulated  contact  into  which  characters  essential- 
ly dissimilar  may  often  be  brought,  without  the  smallest 
interruption  of  harmony;  in  which,  as  in  certain  chemi- 
cal compounds,  the  adverse  substances,  being  but  im- 
perfectly mingled  together,  remain  in  a  tranquil  repose, 
Avhich  would  speedily  be  disturbed  were  the  union  to  be- 
come more  close  and  intimate.  It  was  thus  with  the 
laird  of  Airdruthmore  and  his  friend  Ballytully;  they 
lived  much  together,  but  it  was  by  no  means  in  a  state 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  187 

of  unlimited  intimacy,  for  one  of  the  parties,  at  least, 
wag  fully  conscious  of  the  prudence  of  reserve.  There 
were  few  possessed  of  more  intuitive  tact  in  choosing' 
their  ground,  and  avoiding  unnecessary  hazards,  than 
Lieutenant  Macaskill,  and  he  quickly  perceived  how 
important  to  his  objects  it  would  be  to  avoid  all  offence 
against  the  warm  and  generous  feelings  of  the  laird; 
while  on  his  part,  Airdruthmore  could  discover  little  in 
the  lieutenant's  character  or  conduct  to  reprehend  or 
even  to  regret,  beyond  a  certain  degree  of  hrusquerie — 
a  want  of  refinement  which  he  wa&  content  to  lay  to  the 
score  of  rugged  honesty  and  the  sterhng  worth  of  a  na- 
tive Highlander,  that  scorned  the  artificial  polish  of  an 
age  perhaps  too  much  refined. 

The  first  occasion  on  which  the  laird  of  Ballytully  niet 
with  the  daughter  of  his  friend  was  during  a  v^isit  w^hich 
she  made  while  yet  a  girl,  living  in  England  with  her 
aunt,  to  her  father  in  the  Highlands.  It  is  probable  that 
even  at  this  early  period  the  designs  of  the  uncle  had 
been  conceived,  but  it  was  not  until  a  subsequent  period 
that  Mr.  Thomas  Macaskill  saw  fit  to  break  the  ice  and 
the  subject  to  his  friend  and  client  by  a  distant  hint.  It 
was  received  as  a  good-enouirh  sort  of  joke  by  the  honest 
Jaird,  but  although  the  wily"W.  S.  took  special  care  to 
abstain  from  any  thing  which  could  be  seriously  laid  hold 
of,  it  delighted  him  to  observe,  as  he  thought,  that  the 
suggestion  was  by  no  means  lost  upon  its  object, — that 
the  arrow  had  hit  its  mark,  and  that  though  little  was 
said  upon  the  occasion,  the  old  gentleman  evinced  no 
disposition  adverse  to  the  matter  lie  had  in  view. 

The  efi'ect  thus  produced  was  maintained  by  a  suc- 
cessive variety  of  sly  insinuations — the  advantages  to  be 
contemplated  from  such  a  union  were  artfully  touched 
upon,  and  no  opportunity  was  neglected  for  impressing 
upon  tiie  mind  of  Airdruthmore  not  only  the  expediency, 
but  the  obvious  propriety  of  a  connexion  so  appropriate 
between  such  near  neighbours;  and  this  was  alvvavs 
done  in  a  way  which  was  calculated  to  work  insensibly, 
;«  id  as  it  w^ere  by  inference,  rather  than  by  any  direct 
allusion  to  the  subject. 

There  was,  in  fact,  great  cause  for  apprehension  and 
very  cogent  reasons  for  acting  cautiously;  for  assuredly, 
when  the  object  of  his  frienddiddawn  u])on  the  laird,  be 
was  somewhat  startled.  He  j)robably  called  to  mind  the 
peculiar,  and  not  very  reputable,  character  of  the  late 
Ballytully;  but  he  speedily  released  his  mind  from  the 
unwonted  effort  of  attempting  to  judge  for  itself  in  the 
teeth  of  his  prime  counsellor,  or  his  recorded  opinion,  a 


188  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

species  oftreason;  for  which  he  felt  the  more  conscience 
stricken,  that  he  neither  dared  to  acknowledge  nor  apor 
logize  for  it  in  the  aggrieved  quarter;  and  the  customary 
unction  of  reliance  on  the  -wisdom  of  his  friend  and  agent, 
was  once  more  applied  to  his  wounded  soul.  "It's  no' 
just  the  thing  I  like  somehow,"  muttered  he  to  himself, 
"and  yet  I  have  nothing  to  say  against  the  lad;  and  Tom 
Macaskill  would  never  hint  at  such  a  matter  with  one  of 
doubtful  character,  though  he  were  his  nephew.  As  for 
the  family— that's  good  enough;  all  the  water  in  the  sea 
would  not  wash  the  laird  of  Grant's  blood  out  of  his  mo- 
ther's veins,  if  she  were  living — and,  the  Macaskills  of 
Ballytully  were  one  of  the  oldest  families  of  the  name, 
and  the  lad  himself  is  a  generous,  frank,  free-hearted 
Highlander— a  fine  honourable  fellow,  no  doubt— a  good 
soldier  too,  they  say;  and  where  is  there  a  prettier  man 
to  be  seen  in  a  hundred;  and  the  estate's  no'  a  bad  one — 
the  late  man  dipt  it  a  little,  it's  said;  but  then  it's  all  in 
Tom  Macaskill's  hands,  and  he's  a  warm  fellow — he 
won't  let  the  old  acres  go  flying,  I'll  warrant,  nor  yet  let 
the  roof-tree  fall  for  want  of  propping.  Faith,  Isabelle 
might  do  worse.  I  have  no  great  fancy  for  your  great 
lords  and  lairds  from  the  south,  with  proud  hearts  and 
empty  purses,  or  what's  worse,  worldly  heads  and  cold 
hearts;  and  it's  seldom  the  better  ones  come  our  way.  I 
would  rather  have  Belle  set  down  with  an  honest  warm- 
hearted lad,  near  myself,  and  in  her  own  country,  where 
I  might  get  a  look  of  her  as  often  as  I  liked  in  my  old 
age,  and  dandle  my  grandchildren  on  my  knee,  and  aye 
see  cheerful  faces  when  I  came  the  way.  And  Ballytul- 
ly's  not  an  ugly  place  if  it  were  a  bit  improved — a  very 
bonnie  Highland  place;  and  though  the  house  is  no'  large, 
a  little  of  Belle's  money  might  make  it  big  enough. 
Faith,  if  Belle  liked  the  lad,  I  don't  see  why  I  should  ob- 
ject;— not  a  prime  scholar,  perhaps; — but  where's  the 
good  of  too  much  learning  in  a  Highland  glen?  And  look 
at  your  French  literati — what  good  have  they  done? 
turned  the  country  upside  down; — no,  no,  Roderick  Ma- 
caskill has  nothing  of  jacobin  or  democrat  about  him — 
he's  a  loyal  subject  and  an  honest  man.  Upon  my  faith, 
Belle  might  ^o  farther  and  fare  worse.  But  what  non- 
sense all  this  is,  after  all:  she's  but  achild  yet:  it's  far  too 
soon  to  think  of  such  matters,  and  it's  herself  must  be 
the  judge  whether  she  can  like  him  or  no,  I'll  have  no 
pressing — no  forcing — she  shall  just  judge  for  herself." 

Such  and  such  like  were  the  honest  laird's  cogitations, 
the  workings  of  a  mind  anxious  to  act  for  the  best,  yet 
unconsciously,  perhaps,  influenced  by  misplaced  confi- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  189 

dence  and  by  the  fatal  indolence  which  was  its  besetting 
fault:  an  indolence  which  too  often  counteracted  all  right 
feeling,  and  turned  to  evil  that  single  heartedness  which 
was  one  of  its  owner's  most  amiable  qualities.  As  for 
the  bold  lieutenant,  little  did  he  care  about  the  lady;  the 
solid  advantages  of  the  connexion  were  what  swayed 
his  mind.  But  no  sooner  had  the  daughter  of  Airdruth- 
more  made  her  appearance  on  her  return  from  England, 
lo  occupy  her  fitting  place  in  her  father's  house,  radiant 
in  all  the  charms  of  feminine  loveliness,  than  another 
motive  was  added  to  his  anxiety  for  tiie  connexion;  for 
all  of  passion  which  a  mind  like  his  could  feel,  was  excited 
to  the  highest  pitch  by  the  sight  of  so  much  beauty, 

And  well  indeed  might  the  laird  of  Bally  tully  be  con- 
tented with  his  promised  destiny;  for  assuredly  it  would 
have  been  no  easy  matter  to  discover  in  any  one  daugh- 
ter of  Eve  a  more  attractive  combination  of  bodily  and 
mental  perfections,  than  were  united  in  the  person  of 
Isabelle  Stewart.  At  the  period  in  question  she  was 
scarcely  nineteen;  a  time  when  the  female  form  has  usu- 
ally attained  that  rich  and  rounded  contour  which  is  the 
perfection  of  beauty,  without  losing  aught  of  the  nymph- 
hke  slenderness  which  is  so  indispensable  to  grace.  In 
stature  she  scarcely  rose  above  the  middle  height;  but 
the  just  proportions  of  her  form,  and  the  swan-like  rise 
of  her  beautiful  neck,  lent  to  her  person  an  air  of  lofti- 
ness and  majesty,  which  height  alone  would  never  hav© 
bestowed. 

Her  features  and  complexion  were  those  of  her  mo- 
ther. Eyes  of  so  dark  and  rich  ahazle,  fringed  with  such 
long  silken  lashes,  as  to  cheat  the  beholders  into  the  be- 
lieflhat  they  were  black,  beamed  softly  and  timidly  from 
under  arches  of  their  own  hue.  Above  these  rose  a 
brow,  open,  calm,  and  dazzlingly  white,  in  happy  con- 
trast to  the  rich  tints  of  her  polished  cheek,  where  "the 
pure  and  eloquent  blood"  played  with  a  varying  current 
at  every  change  of  feeling.  These,  and  the  dark  pro- 
fusion of  chesnut  hair  which  clustered  in  glossy  ringlets 
about  her  neck  and  forehead,  belonged  to  the  decided 
brunette. 

It  was  in  the  frank,  joyous,  sunny  smile  that  irradiated 
her  countenance  when  she  spoke,  that  the  likeness  and 
expression  of  her  father  was  chiefly  to  be  recognised.  A 
severe  critic  might  possibly  have  been  disposed  to  blame 
the  size  of  her  mouth;  but  the  beautv  of  its  ripe  and  well 
formed  lips,  no  less  than  the  rows  of  pearly  teeth  which 
their  smile  disclosed,  would  have  rlisarmed  his  censure, 
while  they  otfered  an  undeniable  pledge  for  the  good-hu- 


190  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

mour  and  kind-heartedness  of  their  possessor.  The  cha- 
racter and  disposition  of  Isabelie  Stewart  did  in  truth 
ehine  forth  conspicuously  and  irrepressibly  in  her  coun- 
tenance and  deportment.  To  an  innate  deHcacy  of  sen- 
timent, and  a  nice  sense  of  propriety,  she  united  a  firm- 
ness of  mind,  a  soundness  of  judgment,  and  a  quick 
intuitive  perception  of  ri^ht  and  wrong-,  which,  while  it 
derogated  in  no  degree  Trom  true  feminine  gentleness, 
imparted  to  her  conduct  a  dignified  correctness  rarely  to 
be  met  with  in  one  so  young.  Yet  it  was  a  dignity  im- 
measurably removed  from  any  shade  of  prudery  or 
harshness;  on  the  contrary,  there  was  a  mild  and  winning 
courtesy  in  her  demeanour,  and  in  the  silver  tones  of  her 
voice,  which  exerted  an  irresistible  influence  over  those 
whom  she  addressed.  She  moved  with  the  elastic,  buoy- 
ant, and  almost  bounding  step  of  a  mind  happy  in  itself, 
and  at  peace  with  all  around  her.  Blessings  from  young 
and  old  followed  her  hght  and  gracefu]  form,  as  it  passed 
along  on  errands  of  charity  and  beneficence  to  the  poor 
and  distressed  around  her;  and  the  old  laird  her  father 
was  used  to  declare,  that  he  could  tell  the  sound  of  his 
Isabelle's  footsteps  among  a  thousand,  for  that  they  went 
to  his  very  heart,  like  the  voice  of  joyful  tidings.  Such 
as  we  have  faintly  attempted  to  sketch  her  was  Isabelie 
Stewart  at  the  period  of  which  we  are  now  speaking; 
and  if  we  have  been  at  all  successful  in  our  description, 
the  reader  will  scarcely  wonder  that  lieutenant  Macas- 
kill  should  desire,  as  far  as  in  him  lay,  to  expedite  the 
fulfilment  of  that  arrangement  which  had  for  its  object 
his  union  with  so  admirable  a  person. 


CHAPTER  XL 

AIRDRUTHMORE — FIRST  WHISPERINGS  OF  LOVE. 

The  melodies  of  air  and  earth; 

The  hues  of  mountain  wood  and  sk}-; 
And  loneliness  more  sweet  than  mirth, 

That  leads  the  mind  to  musings  high — 
Give  to  the  sweet  enthusiast's  face 
The  charm  of  more  than  mortal  grace. 

Such  then,  as  we  have  endeavoured  to  describe  them 
in  the  concluding  chapter  of  our  last  volume,  was  the  fa- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  191 

mily  party  in  which  Henry  Tresham  found  himself  re- 
ceived with  a  true  hearty  Highland  welcoDce.  The  very 
next  morning  saw  him  fairly  domiciliated  among  the  in- 
mates of  Airdruthmore,  and  marvellously  reconciled  to 
his  fate.  The  weakness  of  his  ankle  prevented  any  at- 
tempt at  leaving  the  house  or  even  the  floor  to  which  he 
was  confined.  But  it  did  not  hinder  him  from  mingling 
with  the  family,  enjoying  the  hearty  "cracA's"  of  the  old 
laird,  and  the  music  both  of  his  dau^^hter's  tongue  and 
finder.  We  have  seen  that  he  had  discovered  her  voice 
to  be  as  magically  sweet  in  song  as  in  conversation,  and 
he  soon  became  aware  that  her  performance  on  piano- 
forte and  harp  was  such,  as  left  him  Uttle  to  regret  in  the 
absence  of  tiie  first  proficients  in  those  instruments.  He 
was  astonished  at  the  briUiance  of  her  execution,  and 
mentally  acknowledged  that  though  the  strains  of  Mara 
mi^ht  be  richer,  the  tones  of  Gracini  more  deep  and 
full,  and  the  notes  of  Billin£:ton  more  flexible,  they  pos- 
sessed not,  to  his  taste,  the  melting  pathos  of  Isabelle 
Stewart's  voice,  especially  when  exchanging  the  com- 
plex harmony  and  surprising  rapidity  of  an  Italian  bra- 
vura tor  an  humble  strain,  she  poured,  as  it  seemed,  her 
whole  soul  in  a  flood  of  melody  in  the  simple  but  exqui- 
site airs  of  her  own  country. 

"Aye,"  would  the  laird  observe  with  a  triumphant 
shake  of  hia  head,  "let  me  hear  any  thing  in  your 
Haydn?  or  Mozarls  equal  to  'Mac  Gresror  a  ruarath.'  or 
'The  Maids  of  Arrocher,' or  'Robie  donna  garach.'or 
'Chat-huil-co-16,'  or  'Cro-challin;'  no'  to  speak  of  'The 
flowers  of  the  forest,'  or  'Wae's  my  heart  that  we  should 
sunder,'  or  'Here's  a  health  to  them  that's  awa'!'  or — or 
a  thousand  more  like  them,  for  they  are  Lowland  lilts; 
and  after  all  I  like  our  oAvn  Highland  croons  and  straths- 
peys as  well  as  any  of  them  yet.  Belle,  my  dear,  give 
us  'Farewell  to  Lochaber;'  "  and  as  she  breathed  out  the 
soft  melancholy  notes  of  that  touching  Highland  air, 
Tresham  thought  he  had  never  heard  any  thing  half  so 
bewitching. 

Assuredly  there  is  in  the  female  voice,  when  heard  in 
private  society,  a  charm  totally  independent  of  the  melo- 
dy, which  does  by  no  means  attach  to  the  public  vocalist, 
let  her  be  ever  so  excellent.  There  is  luxury  in  the  pri- 
vacy itself— in  the  exclusiveness  of  our  pleasure; — we 
feel  that  the  lovely,  and,  it  may  be,  loved  musician,  pours 
her  strains  for  us  alone: — that  with  the  unreserved  con- 
fidence which  is  the  bleaeing  of  the  family  or  the  social 
circle,  unchecked  by  the  bashful  timidity,  or  the  artificial 
forms  which  fetter  both  feeling  and  gayety  in  public,  she 


192  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

freely  bestows  on  us  what  others  cannot  obtain — a  boon 
beyond  price,  because  not  to  be  purchased.  Beauty  and 
talents  are  voluntarily  exerting  themselves  to  charm  us; 
and  when  we  behold  a  fair  young"  creature,  seated  at  her 
instrument  with  upturned  eye  and  glowing  cheek,  breath- 
insT  forth  sounds  "which  might  create  a  soul  under  the 
ribs  of  death,"  is  it  strange  that  the  thought  of  angels 
should  steal  into  our  minds,  or  that  the  music  which  we 
hear  so  breathed  should  seem  little  less  than  "heaven- 
ly?" Such,  at  least,  where  Henry  Tresham's  thoughts, 
as  listening  to  his  hostess  "he  forgot  all  time;"  and  how- 
ever much  fastidious  amateurs  and  cold-blooded  critics, 
who  shudder  at  the  false  accentuation  of  a  half-note,  and 
shrink  from  the  over-lengthening  of  a  bar,  might  prefer 
the  chromatic  delights  of  a  scientific  concert  with  its  full 
and  thundering  band,  the  yoiin^  Englishman  was  still 
better  pleased  to  hear  the  touching  melodies  of  Scotland 
01-  Erin,  or  the  more  finished  harmony  of  an  Italian  air 
flow  from  the  ruby  lips  of  Isabelle  Stewart. 

We  appeal  to  our  readers  whether  in  their  opinion 
there  can  well  be  imagined  a  more  perilous  situation  for 
a  susceptible  heart,  than  that  in  v/hich  Tresham  was 
now  placed  with  this  fair  syren.  Young,  and  yet  free 
from  any  serious  attachment,  yet  with  every  predisposi- 
tion to  form  one  so  soon  as  a  fitting  opportunity  should 
occur,  he  was  thrown  almost  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
into  juxtaposition  with  a  person  in  every  way  qualified 
to  excite  the  tenderest  emotions,  and  under  circum- 
stances eminently  calculated  to  encourage  their  growth. 
For,  as  Henry  was  unable  to  accompany  the  gentlemen 
in  their  out-of-door  excursions,  his  fair  hostess  deemed 
it  incumbent  upon  her  to  lighten,  by  all  the  means  in  her 
power,  the  irksomeness  of  his  confinement.  Thus  they 
were  much  thrown  together,  and  many  of  the  hours 
which  otherwise  would  have  been  ditt'erently  spent  by 
both,  were  filled  up  by  m.usic  and  conversation.  Nor 
could  Isabelle,  whose  mind  was  perfectly  capable  of  ap- 
preciating intellectual  cultivation  in  others,  fail  of  dis- 
covering very  soon  that  her  companion  not  only  possessed 
large  stores  of  information,  extracted  as  well  from  books 
asfromother  sources,  but  also  the  talent  of  communicat- 
ing and  applying  it  in  the  most  interesting  manner. 

Such  a  companion  and  such  a  style  of  intercourse  hatl 
peculiar  charms  for  Isabelle  Stewart,  who,  highly  culti- 
vated herself,  and  eager  in  pursuit  of  information,  too 
often  experienced  that  pining  sickness  of  the  soul,  which 
mental,  like  bodily  inanition,  does  not  fail  to  produce. 
For  her  father,  with  all  his  frank,  amiable,  and  gentle- 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  193 

manly  qualities,  was  by  no  means  provided  with  stores 
of  hoarded  learning  on  which  he  could  draw  for  a  winter 
e\rening:'s  entertainment;  the  i'ew  neighbours  thej^  could 
boast  of  were  for  the  most  part  decfdedly  his  inferiors; 
and  as  for  Ballytully,  their  most  frequent  inmate,  her 
keen  good  sense  had  penetrated  at  a  glance  the  shallow 
veil  of  affected  refinement  with  whicH  he  attempted  to 
cloak  his  real  vulgarity,  and  detected  the  compound  of 
ignorance  and  assumption,  of  cunning  and  conceit,  which 
lay  mingled  beneath. 

The  indulgence  of  this  passion  for  intellectual  inter- 
course was  delightful,  but  dangerous  as  it  was  sweet.  It 
revived  sensations  and  longmgs,  which  in  Isabelle's 
case  were  better  dormant;  for  when  he  who  had  awaken- 
ed and  gratified  them  was  gone,  as  in  a  few  short  days 
or  weeks  he  might  be,  what  consequence  could  ensue, 
except  pain  and  disappointment?  But  when  do  the  young, 
and  the  ardent,  and  inexperienced,  calculate  consequen- 
ces, or  discover  future  sorrow  through  the  bright  sun- 
shine of  present  enjoyment?  Tresham  and  Isabelle, 
pleased  with  each  other,  enjoyed  the  passing  hour  with- 
out ever  dreaming  of  the  pain  which  must  await  on  that 
of  separation.  Henry  continued  for  some  days  still  to 
lay  his  head  lightly  on  his  pillow,  for  he  felt  that  the  suc- 
ceeding morning  would  only  rouse  him  to  a  renewal  of 
enjoyment:  his  ankle  was  still  so  weak,  as  to  afford  a  fair 
excuse  for  remaining  where  he  was,  and  the  scruples 
which  at  first  he  had  felt  at  his  intrusion,  had,  like  his 
anxiety  to  return  to  Glenvallich,  already  given  way,  as 
he  chose  to  persuade  himself  before  the  hospitable  soli- 
citations of  Airdruthmore.  What  share  the  bright  eyes 
and  heavenly  voice  of  his  daughter  might  have  in  this 
change  of^feeling  he  did  not  stop  to  investigate.  Glenval- 
lich too,  with  frankand  anxious  friendship,  had  early  cross- 
ed the  hill  to  see  his  disabled  co-mate;  and  after  satislymg 
himself  that  he  was  extremely  comfortable,  and  ventur- 
ing upon  a  sly  joke  as  to  the  solaces  he  had  to  look  for  at 
Airdruthmore,  had  returned  to  his  own  country.  Thus 
Tresham  held  himself  free  in  conscience,  and  certainly 
far  from  otherwise  reluctant  to  pass  the  f^ull  period  of 
his  convalescence  at  this  pleasant  and  hospitable  man- 

In'the  course  of  eight  days,  by  the  helpof  astick,  Hen- 
ry ventured  to  accompany  Miss  Stewart  to  the  gar- 
den and  shrubberies,  and  a  few  days  thereafter  their 
walk  was  extended  to  the  picturesque  glen  behind  the 
house,  where  the  beauties  of  the  place,  pointed  out  by 

VOL.  I.  R 


194  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

the  hand  of  liis  fair  companion,  were  viewed  with  double 
interest. 

And  in  truth  it  would  have  been  no  easy  matter  to  se- 
lect a  spot  more  rich  in  natural  beauties  than  the  abode 
in  whicn  our  young  Englishman  now  found  himself  so 
pleasantly  domesticated.  But  in  justice  to  a  scene  so  im- 
portant in  our  narrative,  we  feel  ourselves  called  upon 
to  present  our  readers  with  a  more  accurate  description 
of  Airdruthmore.  The  valley  of  Strath  Einort  was  a 
mountain  glen  of  more  than  ordinary  breadth  and  fertili- 
ty, and,  in  marry  parts,  of  remarkable  beauty.  An  ex- 
tensive tract  of  wild  and  elevated  hill  country  poured  its 
waters,  by  many  subordinate  glens  and  rocky  chasms, 
into  the  Einort,  a  swift  and  full  stream,  which,  after 
many  meanderings,  found  its  way  into  one  of  our  finest 
northern  rivers.  The  banks  of  the  Einort  were  in  many 
j)arts  densely  fringed  with  birch  and  alder:  in  some  places 
it  flowed  in  long,  lazy  pools,  divided  by  short  rapids 
through  rich  meadow  land,  termed  in  the  Highlands, 
loupan,  or  ahonan,  and  through  cultivated  fields  divided 
by  natural  hedges  of  copsewood:  in  others  it  chafed 
against  rocks  and  woodedpromontories  which  rose  above 
its  stream  to  the  height  of  several  hundred  feet.  Hills 
as  various  in  form  as  in  colour,  closed  in  the  strath  on  all 
sides;  in  some  places  exhibiting  their  skirts  clothed  with 
native  birch,  above  which  rose  green  slopes,  bold  swell- 
ing shoulders  of  purple  heather,  and  crests  or  ridges  of 
gray  rock. 

But  the  more  retired  glens  which  opened  on  the  strath, 
and  contributed  their  waters  to  the  Einort,  compre- 
hended perhaps  its  principal,  if  not  its  most  obvious, 
beauties:  and  among  these,  by  far  the  loveliest  and  most 
important  was  that  which,  joining  it  at  the  point  of  Air- 
druthmore, formed  with  the  Einort  the  promontory  from 
whence  the  place  derived  its  name.  The  Ruth,  for  so 
was  named  the  stream  which  occupied  the  bottom  of  this 
glen,  took  its  rise  in  the  bosom  of  a  lofty  mountain,  or 
rather  range  of  mountains,  several  miles  distant,  and 
being  increased  by  the  waters  of  many  lesser  rills,  flowed 
through  a  hollow  which,  in  its  upper  region,  aflbrded  a 
fine  summer  grazing  for  cattle;  but  the  far  greater  part 
of  its  lower  course  was  contracted  into  a  deep,  narrow, 
irregular  chasm,  full  of  wood  and  precipice,  in  their  most 
picturesque  combinations. 

As  this  stream  approached  its  junotion  with  the  Ei- 
nort, its  banks  opened  out  and  gave  space  for  a  consider- 
able tract  of  level  ground,  fitted  for  all  purposes  of  culti- 
vation, and  near  it,  scarcely  the  tliird  of  a  mile  from  its 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  195 

junction  with  the  Einort,  was  situated  the  house  of  Air- 
druthmore.  The  pleasant  vicinity  of  these  streams,  and 
the  accidental  occurrence  of  some  fine  old  trees,  had  no 
doubt  been  the  principal  inducement  to  former  proprie- 
tors of  Airdruthmore  for  choosing-  a  position,  somewhat 
dangerously  low,  as  had  more  than  once  been  testified  by 
the  ravages  of  those  very  waters  which  constituted  so 
much  of  the  temptation. 

Immediately  around  the  house  lay  a  considerable  ex- 
tent of  grass  and  corn  fields,  divided  into  parks,  as  they 
were  called,  by  dykes  or  palings,  and  more  rarely  by 
hedges  in  no  very  high  condition,  with  rows  of  ash, 
wytch  elm,  or  sycamore  trees,  which  contributed  plea- 
singly to  improve,  and  gave  a  sort  o^ finish,  to  the  coup 
cVceil.  Above  this  level  carse  land,  arose  a  more  elevat- 
ed tract,  the  Aird,  or  promontory,  consisting  of  still 
more  valuable  soil,  which  gracefully  and  gradually  sAvell- 
ed  to  right  and  left,  until  it  was  lost  in  the  skirts  of  the 
hills  that  occupied  the  country  between  the  glens  of  the 
Einort  and  Ruth.  The  base  of  these  hills  was  beauti- 
fully clothed  with  birch,  principally  of  the  weeping  kind, 
as  also  with  oak  and  beech  in  less  abundance.  Above, 
might  be  seen  the  little  hill  farms  and  crofts  peeping  out 
or  speckling  the  brown  face  of  the  brae  with  green  and 
yellow  patches,  interspersed  with  dwarf  birch.  Above 
all  these,  the  thriving  but  more  sombre  plantations  of 
Scotch  fir  enlivened  a  little  by  the  richer  green  of  the 
larix,  occupied  the  full  sweep  of  the  hills,  retiring  away 
till  lost  in  the  distant  ridges  of  the  il/eaZmo7'e,  a  branch  of 
those  mountains  which  gave  birth  to  the  Ruth. 

This  aird  or  point  enjoyed  the  full  advantage  of  a 
southern  aspect;  and  though  the  present  laird  had  by  no 
means  availed  himself  to  the  full  of  the  advantages  which 
the  position  might  have  commanded,  something  had  still 
been  effected.  His  wife,  Mrs.  Stewart,  had  exerted 
both  her  influence  and  her  tavSte  in  embeUishing,  so  far 
as  lay  in  her  power,  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  house. 
Dykes,  which  girded  in  the  court,  and  which  had  hereto- 
fore proved  a  protection  only  to  docks,  and  nettles,  and 
other  nuisances,  were  removed — goose  dubs  were  filled 
up — a  comfortable  space  around  the  doors  was  smoothed 
and  laid  down  in  grass  for  turf  The  bye-path  which  led 
from  a  slap  in  the  dyke,  and  which  by  abuse  had  become 
the  most  frequented  road  to  the  door,  was  shut  up,  in  fa- 
vour of  the  approach  originally  constructed  through  an 
avenue  of  some -Tine  old  sycamore  and  ash  trees,  along 
which  a  good  gravelled  road  was  now  formed,  and  at  the 
entrance  of  which  a  decent  gate  was  established.  Walls 


196  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

and  fences  near  the  house  were  all  repaired,  and  access 
to  the  offices  was  facilitated  gradually  by  the  formation 
of  gravelled  walks.  The  construction  of  a  tolerably  spa- 
cious garden  was  effected  upon  the  bank  of  the  Ruth,  at 
the  sacrifice  of  an  excellent  piece  of  land;  and  some  belt- 
ings of  trees  and  shrubs  were  planted  to  afford  it  shelter. 
A  variety  of  similar  arrangements  and  improvements 
were  effected  in  the  early  period  of  the  laird's  married 
life,  and  the  place  gradually  assumed  an  air  of  comfort 
and  neatness  by  no  means  universal  in  Highland  resi- 
dences of  that  period. 

The  house  itself  had  originally  consisted  of  a  simple 
oblong  square,  with  two  straight  gavels,  containing  two 
rooms  on  each  floor.  A  wino-,  like  a  younger  brothei-,  had 
been  appended  to  this  simple  domicile,  in  the  which  was 
constructed  a  kitchen,  and  some  other  requisite  offices. 
But  when  the  laird  took  to  himself  a  wife,  this  unpretend- 
ing mansion  had  undergone  a  thorough  repair,  and  an  ex- 
tensive increase.  Wings  far  exceeding  the  original  te- 
nement were  thrown  back,  with  large  bow  windows  at 
the  end;  some  rooms  were  converted  into  mere  passages, 
and  the  remaining  ones  increased  in  breadth  and  height; 
roofs  Avere  raised,  windows  enlarged  or  struck  out — in 
short,  every  custoniary  expedient  was  had  recourse  to, 
for  amending  and  increasing  the  accommodations  of  a 
bad  old  house — and  with  pretty  nearly  the  usual  results 
— a  better  mansion  might  have  been  built  with  less  mo- 
ney; but  still  the  eked  and  patched-up  dwelling  carried 
an  imposing  appearance,  which  would  have  pleased 
many  an  eye,  and  probably  corresponded  with  the  situa- 
tion better  than  a  more  symmetrical  structure  would 
have  done;  and  when  neatly  rough  cast  with  lime,  and 
after  the  care  of  Mrs.  Stewart  liad  trained  upon  the 
walls  a  few  creeping  shrubs,  seen  as  it  was  through 
trees  and  bushes,  it  assumed  a  pleasing,  gentlemanly 
aspect,  without  too  much  of  pretence. 

In  course  of  time  the  laird  himself  became  interested 
in  the  improvements  of  his  lady,  and  when  she  died,  lie 
maintained  and  watched  over  them  with  a  jealous  fond- 
ness that  mingled  itself  with  all  she  had  loved  and  creat- 
ed. Not  that  when  Isabelle  returned  to  her  native 
place,  she  found  it  exactly  in  the  condition  which  would 
have  been  the  case  had  her  mother's  taste  and  energy 
continued  to  direct  its  improvements;  for  Mrs.  Mac 
Donald,  though  a  good,  was  by  no  means  so  refined  a 
woman  as  her  sister-in-law;  and  there  was  much  to  re- 
store, as  well  as  to  create,  before  the  more  cultivated 


THE  HIGHLA>'D  SMUGGLERS.  197 

and  enlightened  mind  of  her  niece  could  feel  satisfied 
with  the  establishment  she  was  henceforth  to  superin- 
tend. In  process  of  time,  however,  the  well-regulated 
measures  of  the  young  lady,  aided  by  the  confidence  and 
good- will  of  her  father,  efi'ected  the  principal  improve- 
ments she  contemplated;  and  Isabelle  assumed,  with  all 
the  grace  and  energy  which  belonged  to  her  character, 
tiie  station  which  of  right  was  her  own,  as  mistress  of 
her  father's  family. 

Under  her  judicious  attention  the  garden  became  a 
fair  and  pleasant  retreat,  as  well  as  a  productive  appen- 
dage to  the  establishment;  young  shrubberies  arose  to 
conceal  offensive  objects,  and  walks  resumed  their  pris- 
tine neatness.  A  thousand  little  elegancies  and  tasteful 
refinements^  both  in  the  public  and  private  apartments 
of  the  house,  denoted  the  influence  of  female  care  and 
nicety,  and  a  smile  of  mingled  emotions  arose  on  the 
old  man's  countenance,  as  he  watched  his  daughter  en- 
gaging in  the  same  pursuits,  and  evincing,  even  in  a 
higher  degree,  the  same  tastes,  which  he  so^vell  remem- 
bered, and  had  admired  so  much  in  the  wife  whose  loss 
he  still  deplored. 

Such  was  the  scene  which  now,  under  the  guidance  of 
his  bewitching  hostess,  claimed  and  received  the  ready 
admiration  of  Tresham.  But  the  pleasant  intercourse 
we  have  described  was  greatly  promoted  and  its  effects 
increased  by  an  incident  which  unexpectedly  prolonged 
his  stay  at  Airdruthmore,  far  beyond  the  most  protract- 
ed period  which  he  had  contemplated.  Miss  Stewart, 
as  we  have  already  remarked,  was  an  enthusiast  in  the 
beauties  of  nature.  It  was  not  the  grander  features  of 
the  landscape  alone  that  arrested  her  attention,  although 
her  pencil  was  very  frequently  employed  in  portraying 
these.  She  loved  to  ponder  over  and  admire  its  minuter 
attractions,  and  every  wild  flower  of  the  field  had  a  fresh 
charm  to  invite  her  lingering  eyes,  and  claim  her  atten- 
tion. During  the  winter  which  succeeded  her  return  to 
Airdruthmore,  she  had  beguiled  some  hours  that  might 
otherwise  have  been  tedious,  in  acquiring  some  know- 
ledge of  botany;  and  when  summer  had  once  more  open- 
ed before  her  the  riches  of  the  vegetable  world,  every 
ramble  she  took  possessed  a  double  interest. 

Amused  by  the  obvious  delight  which  she  took  in  col-^ 
lecting.  pressing,  drying  and  arranging  a  variety  of 
plants  for  a  sort  of  hortus  siccus  whicn  she  was  prepar- 
ing, Tresham  took  infinite  pleasure  in  assisting  her  so 
tar  as  he  could;  and  Isabelle,  in  return  for  the  various 
R  2 


198  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

information  which  her  companion  was  enabled  to  com- 
municate, and  grateful,  doubtless,  for  the  refreshing  in- 
tercourse which  she  enjoyed  with  a  mind  so  well  cultivat- 
ed as  his,  proposed  to  instruct  him,  so  far  as  she  was 
able,  in  the  principles  of  a  science  which  had  so  many 
attractions  to  herself  The  still  feeble  state  of  his  ankle, 
Umited  the  scene  of  these  lessons  for  a  time  to  the  gar- 
den and  close  vicinity  of  the  house;  but  when  his  increas- 
ing strength  removed  all  cause  for  uneasiness,  Tresham 
accompanied  his  fair  hostess  further  a-field,  and  a  glen, 
the  rocks,  and  the  borders  of  the  mountain  streams  be- 
came the  enlarged  sphere  of  these  scientific  excursions. 

One  day,  while  rambling  onwards  in  the  glen  of  the 
Ruth,  beguiling  the  roughness  of  the  path  with  lively 
conversation,  they  were  reminded  that  they  had  wander- 
ed further  than  was  their  first  intention,  by  the  intense 
heat  of  the  day  and  their  own  consequent  lassitude.  "You 
must  sit  down  a  little  Miss  Stewart,"  said  Tresham;  "I 
see  you  are  fatigued,  and  remember  you  have  all  that 
wild  path  to  go  back  again;  see,  there  is  a  cool  seat  under 
the  shade  of  these  birches.  Do  take  my  arm,"  said  he, 
with  an  expression  of  greater  interest  than  he  had  ever 
dared  to  employ,  and  he  ventured  to  draw  her  own  with- 
in his.  "You  are  flushed  and  heated,  but  sit  down  here 
in  the  shades  see,  I  will  drive  away  these  tormenting 
flies." 

The  flush  did  not  abate  in  Isabelle's  cheek  at  the  tone 
and  the  manner  of  her  companion,  as  he  pressed  these 
attentions  upon  her.  It  was,  no  doubt,  a  consciousness 
of  this  that  averted  her  face  as  she  w^ithdrew  her  arm 
to  take  theprofi^ered  seat;  and  with  something  of  embar- 
rassment unusual  to  her,  she  busied  herself  ingathering 
the  flowers  and  mosses  that  grew  near  her.  Tresham 
felt  the  uneasiness  he  had  occasioned,  and  for  a  moment 
he  too  remained  silent.  Miss  Stewart  was  the  first  to 
recover  from  this  momentary  confusion.  "Ah,  look 
there,"  said  she,  raising  her  eyes  to  the  ledges  of  rock 
which  overhung  them;  "do  you  see  that  little  fairy  tuft 
of  fern,  growing  on  that  rocky  shelf  above  me,  Mr.'Tre- 
sham?  that  is  the  'maiden's  hair;'  the  very  plant  we  were 
speaking  of  a  little  ago:  the  country  people  think  it  a  spe- 
cific in  consumptive  complaints,  and  carry  it  ofl' whenev- 
er they  see  it,  so  that  it  is  not  oflen  met  with  except  in 
difficult  or  remote  places;  it  is  a  beautiful  little  plant,  but 
there  is  no  getting  at  it  in  such  a  break-neck  spot— what 
a  pity!" 

Alas!  for  Tresham's  prudence;  he  was  in  no  mood  for 


THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS.  199 

exercising  it — his  enchantress  was  at  his  feet;  and  in  the 
ardour  of  his  feehngs  discretion  was  Ibrg-ot.  Unhke  the 
celebrated  and  enamoured  nobleman,  who.  seeing  the 
eaze  of  his  mistress  directed  towards  a  brilliant  star  in 
the  firmament,  said,  '"Do  not  look  at  it  love,  lor  I  cannot 
give  it  theel''  Tresham  no  sooner  saw  the  tiny  object 
which  had  fixed  the  hazel  eyes  of  his  fair  companion, 
than  darting  from  her,  he  had  climbed  the  rock  by  an- 
other way  ere  she  guessed  his  intention.  Bending  over 
the  projecting  ledge  he  seized  the  prize,  and  was  return- 
ing safely,  when  his  foot  tript  among  some  pieces  of  the 
crumbling  rock,  and  in  attempting  to  save  himself,  he 
once  more  wrenched  his  unhappy  ankle,  the  weakness  of 
which  he  had  entirely  overlooked  in  his  eagerness  to 
obhge  his  beautiful  instructress. 

Afarmed  for  his  safety,  even  before  the  accident,  Isa- 
belle  had  started  up  and  was  hastening  forward  to  re- 
proach the  young  man  for  his  imprudence.  Avhen  she  saw 
with  dismay  that  he  was  lying  on  the  ground,  writhing 
with  pain,  and  unable  to  rise.  ^"Good  heavens,  Mr.  Tre- 
•l^hara,  what  is  the  matter?  you  are  hurt  1  am  certain — 
is  it  not  so?  pray  tell  mel  exclaimed  Isabelle,  with  a  face 
that  grew  as  pale  as  that  of  her  companion,  although  in 
the  next  moment  the  blood  rushed  back  with  redoubled 
Ibrce,  as  Tresham  grasped  the  hand  which  she  held  out 
to  assist  him.  '"Nay,  don't  alarm  yourself,  my  dear  Miss 
Stewart,"' said  he,  in  accents  where  tenderness  strug- 
gled with  suppressed  anguish;  '"it  is  nothing,  believe  me; 
I — I  have  only  disabled  this  unlucky  ankle  of  mine  again, 
I  believe;  but  it's  nothing — a  mere  trifle." 
^  "A  mere  trifle.  Mr.  Tresham!  how  can  you  say  so? 
I'm  distressed  extremely — and  ibr  me  too  it  was — to  get 
that  foolish  thing;  nay,  pray  be  patient — don't  attempt  to 
rise — sitstillhere  while  Igo  to  the  house  for  assistance." 

"O  pray  do  not,"  said  Tresham,  earnestly,  "see  I'm 
well  already,"  and,  sick  with  pain,  he  contrived  to  get  up, 
and  attempted  to  limp  some  steps  along — but  it  would 
not  do. 

'[Stop,  Mr.  Tresham — take  my  arm  then;  it  is  neither 
"mighty  to  save,'  nor  very  powerful  to  help,  but  it  may 
assist  you  till  stronger  aid  comes;  and  surely  1  owe  you 
this — it  was  my  foolish  wish  that  caused  the  mischief" 

The  temptation  was  irresistible.  Tresham,  with  some 
further  apology,  did  accept  the  arm  of  his  fair  guide — 
scarcely  to  lean  on  it,  but  to  taste  an  enjoyment  which 
he  did  not  venture  to  allow  even  to  himself  was  so  sw^eet 
— the  close  and  dehghtful  proximity  to  one  whose  loveli- 


•200  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

ncss  and  mental  perfections  were  making  rapid  inroads 
on  his  heart. 

Slowly,  for  she  would  not  permit  him  to  hazard  exer- 
tion, the  young:  lady  and  her  disabled  knight  proceeded 
down  the  glen,  in  this  dangerously  familiar  attitude,  and, 
not  until  the  appearance  ol  her  father,  whose  help  it  was 
impossible  to  deny  as  being  more  efficient  than  that  of 
his  daughter,  did  Tresham  release  the  arm  of  his  fair 
conductress,  "Hey?  what  the  deuce,  my  young  friend, 
at  the  same  ill  work  aerain?  a  bad  way  to  mend  old  sores, 
faith:  well,  so  much  lor  your  threatening  to  leave  us; 
ye're  tied  now  by  the  leg  for  another  month  at  least,  and 
Isabelle  and  old  Grizzle  must  take  to  nursing  you  again. 
Grizzle  will  be  delighted,  I  dare  say." 

"Ah— much  obliged  to  Grizzle,  good  kind  soul;  but  I 
hope  it  won't  come  to  that.  I  trust  to  being  a  parlour 
]iatient  only.  I  could  not  brook  the  confinement  of  my 
own  room,  after  the  pleasure  I  have  known  since  I  left  it, 
even  with  all  the  advantage  of  Mrs.  Macfarlane's  valu- 
able assistance." 

"O  you  ungrateful  v^arlet!  little  do  you  know  how  much 
^ood  the  worthy  dame  speaks  of  you;  she  swears  by  you, 
lor  a  douce  pleasant  gentleman,  I  assure  you.  But  it's 
the  way  with  all  you  young  men  when  an  ould  woman  is 
concerned.  If  Grizzle  w^as  but  eisrhteen  now — but  never 
mind,  we'll  have  you  all  to  ourselves;  for  there's  Bally- 
tuUy  tells  me  he  must  be  off  lor  Edinburgh,  on  business; 
and  ray  sister  Janet  is  going  to  pay  a  visit  to  one  of  her 
late  husband's  friends,  near  Keppoch;  so  ye  must  keep 
our  spirits  up  with  your  cracks,  man,  and  we'll  see  to 
make  ye  sound  before  the  month  is  up." 

During  the  time  of  this  colloquy  they  were  progress- 
ing towards  the  house;  and  in  spite  of  the  pain  he  suffer- 
ed, Tresham  would  not  have  exchanged  his  sw^elled  and 
disabled  limb  for  the  best  supporter  in  his  Majesty's  do- 
minions. With  the  rapid  calculation  of  passion,  it  jflashed 
through  his  brain,  though  his  better  judgment  scarce  in- 
terfered in  the  conclusion,  "Now  shall  I  have  this  fasci- 
nating creature  all  to  myself;  now  will  no  stupid  old 
aunt,  nor  intermeddling  country  cousins  interrupt  our 
deHcious  tete-a-tetes" — for  the  keen  perceptive  jealousy 
of  love  had  already  increased  his  instinctive  dislike  to 
the  vulvar  and  officious  Macaskill,  who  on  his  part  con- 
tinued lurtively  to  eye  the  polished  Englishman  with  an 
envious  and  malignant  regard,  although  his  prudence 
prompted  a  demeanour  which  was  obsequious  even  to 
fawning. 


THE  HIGHLAXD  SMUGGLERS.  201 

The  whlsperin£^s  of  hope,  and  the  anticipations  of 
nascent  affection  ?or  once  were  reahzed;  and  Tresham 
enjoyed  for  many  days,  the  intoxicating  dehght  of  quaf- 
finfflong  and  unchecked  drausrhts  of  love  from  the  eyes 
an3  Hps  of  his  enchantress.  That  momentous  fortnight 
riveted  the  chain  which  chance  and  occasion  had  begun 
to  weave  around  his  heart.  Instead  of  confining  himself 
to  his  chamber,  as  during  the  first  accident,  until  able  to 
hobble  into  the  drawing-room,  a  sofa  in  that  apartment 
was  discovered  to  be  fully  more  comfortable  tothe  injur- 
ed limb.  The  reluctance  which  he  at  first  felt  at  present- 
ing himself  swathed  and  bandaged  before  strangers,  had 
vanished;  and  he  was  now  regularly  supported  every 
morning  into  the  room  occupied  by  the  diminished  tamily, 
where,  unless  at  meals,  there  was  now  no  other  inmate 
than  her  whom  he  alone  desired  to  look  upon,  and  from 
whom  he  continued  daily  to  receive  such  marks  of  gen- 
tle consideration,  as  none  but  a  female  knows  how  to 
bestow,  and  which  was  rendered  doubly  precious  by  that 
maidenly  reserve  and  shrinking  delicacy,  so  conspicuous 
in  the  character  of  his  young  hostess. 

On  Miss  Stewart's  side,  these  attentions  were  unques- 
tionably tendered  in  the  cordial  spirit  of  benevolence  and 
hospitality  alone.  For  though  she  certainly  admired  the 
cultivation,  the  elegance,  and  the  fascinating  manners  of 
her  guest — quahties  more  striking  and  attractive,  because 
in  her  situation  the.v  were  rarely  seen — no  sentiment  of 
a  warmer  nature  had  as  yet  intruded  itself  in  her  mind 
— she  was  still  ''fancy  freer'  contrast,  and  absence,  and 
tlie  loss  of  a  familiar  and  prized  enjoyment,  had  not  yet 
done  their  work,  nor  pointed  out  the  quarter  whence 
danger  was  to  come.  In  happy  unsuspecting  innocence, 
Isabelle  enjoyed  the  pleasure  which  Providence  bestow- 
ed, without  any  alloying  fears  of  the  future. 

We  have  already  adverted  to  the  trying  situation  of 
these  young  persons,  and  the  perils  of  juxtaposition  in 
circumstances  so  peculiar.  We  have  heard  it  observed, 
that  a  long  sea  voyage  is  probably  the  most  dangerous 
ordeal  to  which  two  sensitive  young  hearts  can  be  ex- 
posed. But  what,  we  boldly  ask.  i.s  that,  to  the  seclusion 
of  a  lone  Highland  glen,  with  infinitely  more  frequent 
and  varied  opportunities  of  intercourse — free  from  all  in- 
trusive interference — lovely  weather — enchanting  scene- 
ry— an  interesting  invalid,  recovering  under  a  due 
course  of  tender  care,  to  accompany  his  young  and  lovely 
nurse  in  long  rambling  walks,  through  shady  woods,  re- 
posing on  green  mossy  banks,  or  slowly  wandering  along 


202  THE  HIGHLAND  SMUGGLERS. 

babbling  brooks  and  under  arching  rocks— rich,  mild  au- 
tumnal evenings,  sheddincr  all  their  softening  melan- 
choly influence  over  the  soul — good  heavens!  the  warmth 
of  sunshine,  and  the  dews  of  heaven  to  the  growth  of 
summer  flowers,  is  nothing  to  it!  We  only  marvel  that 
the  declaration  did  not  bolt  out  in  a  fortnight,  and  that 
neither  elopement  nor  special  license  were  had  recourse 
to  within  the  month. 

Fortunately  we  have  to  do  with  discreet  and  well-con- 
ducted persons,  from  whom  no  such  over-hasty  proceed- 
ings are  to  be  apprehended;  every  thing  progressed 
with  due  order  and  decorum;  but  matters  assuredly  did 
not  stand  still.  When  Tresham  was  again  able  to  ex- 
ert himself,  their  walks  were  resumed,  and  having  learn- 
ed prudence  from  misfortune,  he  was  soon  enabled  to 
accompany  his  fair  hostess  over  the  grounds  and  envi- 
rons of  the  place:  nor  did  it  require  any  adventitious  ex- 
citement to  draw  from  him  very  rapturous  expressions 
of  admiration  at  the  beauties  of  her  favourite  glen.  It 
was  in  truth  a  scene  of  such  uncommon  interest— so  wild, 
Bo  romantic,  and  so  savage,  yet  so  solemn,  so  rich,  and 
beautiful  by  turns — that  its  own  natural  attractions 
alone  would  have  elicited  his  warmest  commendations, 
independent  of  its  claims  as  the  favourite  retreat  of  Isa- 
belle  Stewart. 


END  OF  VOL.  I. 


•:^^K^*^^\     ..^- 


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